In Spite Of All The Danger
by CrazyCatie
Summary: Before the fame, before the popularity, they were just a group of boys.  Until, however, they met two girls that would change their lives forever, and not necessarily in the best ways...  A collab between yours truly and the wonderful Sparks Diamond.
1. Chapter 1

**Addie's AN**: **Well hey there everyone! So me and Catie decided to write our own little collaboration. And if I do say so myself, it is pretty damn good. Well, what I mean is that I'm very excited to be writing this and that I think you guys will like it! Well, I hope! Anyway, why don't you just go ahead and read this first chapter and tell us what you think. Okay? Okay great. **

** Catie's AN: Um, what the hell Addie? You were totally gonna start the story without me saying something, weren't you? WEREN'T YOU? Is it because I talk a lot? Because if it IS, then sor-ry, but I never asked you to talk to me!**

** Addie's AN: Oh chill, will ya? This ain't just your story you know! I can introduce it if I want! Plus the readers care more about the story than the AN's! Ten bucks says no one even reads these!**

**Catie's AN: Well, they read MINE because they love me…right? RIGHT? Oh whatever. ANYWAYS! Because Addie never explained this in her apparently awesome AN the first time, we decided do to a little…colab. What about, you may ask. Wellll…it's a love story (duh) but not just any love story. A REAL love story. With heartbreak and tragedy and (gasp!) sex and lies and kissing and passion and stealing stuff (…only John does that, don't worry) and just…the who shebang. Haha…shebang. Sooo…as you may or may not know, I have this thing about John Lennon. This this where…I hate him. He really gets on my nerves. But because Addie is obsessed with him, it's necessary that we have to include him. Sighhhh…I know. Life sucks. But anyways, before you get bored and decide to leave, here is chapter one! Well…more like the prologue…but yeah!**

When the ladies first walked in, there was a sudden hush and halt in the work. They had an air of…history. Elegance. Undeniable beauty, even in their old age. There was a taller one, with a full head of nearly gray hair. She surveyed the room with narrowed eyes, her arm hooked firmly to her friend's, who stood a good few inches shorter than her.

The shorter one wore a wary expression on her face as she followed her friend's gaze around the room. She had never learned to trust easily in her life, and even though she knew full well why she was here, she kept her well-made guard up. She felt the stares before she returned them…but return them she did. Her once long brown hair had turned a dull gray, but her green eyes still shown with the same mysteriousness they had all her life.

The taller woman marched forward, her friend in tow, and people parted as they went. It was as though the fucking Beatles themselves were there.

The two women, now having gathered many wide-eyed and respectful stares, were asked to sit in the carefully placed Victorian armchairs. The young man sitting across from them was fidgeting nervously in his own seat, beads of sweat forming on his upper lip. It was almost as if he couldn't believe he was sitting across from these two women who were nothing close to famous. But they DID have a certain…something about them. He couldn't exactly put his finger on it, however.

The old friends shared a glance as the young man stuttered his first request. "St-state your f-f-full n-names, pl-please."

The shorter one with the haunting eyes fixed the man with her gaze and said in her soft but strong voice, "Alexandra Louisa Chambers." She looked to her friend, waiting for her to speak.

The taller woman glared at the interview through dark blue eyes, bordered by thick framed glasses. "Cassidy Elizabeth Riddle." She looked him up and down, then shot her friend a bemused look. "Your turn," she sneered, placing her gaze carefully back on the young man.

The man, whose man happened to be Richard Kingsley, looked rather taken aback, his face turning a pallid white. For a few minutes he sputtered incoherently while Cassidy looked on, a smirk resting on her lips. "R-Richard," he finally choked out after a while. She was an old lady, for God's sake, why was he so…so…intimidated?

Alexandra cleared her throat, shot her friend a withering stare, and rested her hand gently over Richard's. "It's alright," she said softly. "We're all nervous here."

Cassidy gave her a withering look right back. "Alley, who said I'M nervous?" She crossed her arm over her chest, leaning back in her chair. In truth, she was still slightly bitter about this whole ordeal. She was only here because her best friend thought it might be good for them.

Good for them her ass.

Alexandra rolled her eyes and stared directly at her friend, her electric green eyes boring into Cassidy's denim blue ones. She knew how her friend felt and was fully aware that this whole mess was her idea. But Alexandra knew her friend inside and out-sometimes even better than she knew herself. However, fighting over it NOW was certainly not going to help the situation. With a deep breath, she turned back to the young man and smiled. "What do you want to know?"

Cassidy occupied herself by glancing around the room, taking it all in. So they were here, huh? Both of them? Well, that was pretty wild. Still, she couldn't understand why the directors wanted washed up old girlfriends, instead of people with REAL stories…like Petey. She had always thought it funny that no one really liked Pete, as she simply adored him.

She glanced back at the young man once more, deciding she could find it in her heart to give him a chance. After all, he would probably just ask her the basics, nothing too serious. She looked over at Alley, wondering why she was so open to all of this. Probably still hung up on the dead guy, she thought viciously. Stupid bitch. Then she reminded herself to be nice, as she WAS her best friend, and she DID love her dearly.

Alley was HER stupid bitch.

The young man cleared his throat, feeling slightly more confident now that the shorter lady had reassured him. He took a few breaths of his own and with a withering smile, he began. "What was your relationship with John Lennon?"

Alexandra was sitting with her back to the chair, her head leaning against her hand; elbow on the chair arm. She half-smiled at her best friend. She knew what Cassidy thought, even after all these years. But Alexandra when what she felt in her heart and it still could not be denied.

"My relationship with John Lennon?" Alley asked, a smile starting to creep onto her face. "It was complicated. I'm not even sure it could be called a relationship. I mean, we had something, I can't say that we didn't." She paused for a moment, as if living in a distant memory. There was an almost undetectable flash of sadness in her eyes. "I'm just not sure what it was…"

"I know what it was," Cassidy spoke up, leaning towards Richard. "It was a load of shit." She looked over at her friend and shrugged, not wanting to hurt her feelings but also not wanting to take that back.

Alexandra kept her face straight, but looking into her eyes, you could see the anger flashing there. She didn't look at Cassidy, but she was PRETTY sure she knew what she was feeling. Always, she had a problem with…John. Cass never, not even once, had a nice thing to say about him. Still looking ahead, Alexandra replied, "How would you know? You were so head over heels for Paul McCartney that you noticed nothing around you!"

That wiped the smirk right off of Cassidy's wrinkled face. A million nasty comments filled her head. So many that they dizzied her. But she shot them all down, instead looking at the interviewer boy (who looked scared as hell) and fake-smiled. "They were both such charmers, if you couldn't tell." She nudged Alley, a little smirk slipping onto her lips. "But they had nothing on little Georgie Harrison."

Alexandra-always and still known as Alley-couldn't help but smile in spite of herself. Her head swimming with memories of her past, rushing at her with the speed of light; one after another. George Harrison, much like Paul McCartney…and John Lennon. She couldn't help but feel a stab of pain in her heart every time she thought of him or heard his name. He had died so young and so tragically…it hurt too much to think of him sometimes.

But it was her idea to go through this in the first place, so she had to be strong. She smiled once more at the man that was starting to look like he wanted to be somewhere else and said, "George Harrison…Cassidy's right, for once." She smirked at her best friend. "Little Georgie was something else."

Cassidy got a dreamlike look in her eyes, remembering all the times she spent with those crazy boys. "Ahhh, George. Great guy." She looked down, as suddenly a lump rose in her throat and she swallowed it down. Hadn't she shed enough tears for him? She replaced it with something else, if only to hide if for a few moments. "But you don't want to hear about him," she shot at the reviewer. "All you want to hear about is the fucked up relationship between my friend and John Lennon." She spat his name, as though it wasn't worth to be on her lips.

Alley whipped her head around to stare at Cassidy. So she didn't want to be here, that was fine. But that was no reason for her to act like a bitch towards the man she once loved. And possibly still did love, deep in her heart. It was a low blow and Cassidy knew it. Alley stared at her for a few more moments before finally turning back to the interviewer.

"I'm sorry, my friend always likes to put people down when she wants to hide her own true feelings." Alley gave a split-second death glance towards Cassidy before looking back at the young man. "You may want to hear about my relationship with John, but I assure you, there is MUCH more to learn about." For a second, she paused, wondering if she should continue. The next remark would hurt Cassidy-she knew that much and she didn't want to do it. But Cass had practically spat on a dead man's grave. She deserved a little pain in return. And besides, the story should be out. Once and for all.

Alley sucked in a breath and focused on the interviewer. Her face was a stony mask as she said, "For example, Cassidy could tell you about how she got pregnant and led Paul on to believe that the child was his. When REALLY, it belonged to some bastard from a drunken, one night stand."

Ouch. Cassidy, for one, had never told a single soul Alley and mother that it wasn't really Paul that had knocked her up. She sat, stone cold and motionless, her heart barely beating. She didn't want to believe that her fucking BEST FRIEND had just betrayed her like that, but she was left with no choice. She turned to look at her coldly, her body buzzing with numbness.

"You wanna talk diry, cheap bastard? Then maybe we should talk about Royce," she hissed, her eyes narrowed to slits. She turned to look at the interviewer. "I guess it's true that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. Or I, I should say, WHO doesn't kill us. Isn't that right, Alley?"

Alley sucked in a breath and for a few minutes, all she could do was sit there in a completely shocked silence. There were only a few people who really knew the truth about that night. Thinking back to it was like opening a vile can of worms-something she would rather not do.

Royce was her step-father. He was a well-known drunk and abuser. One night, she couldn't take it anymore and in a moment of anger she stabbed him with a kitchen knife. But she wasn't that strong and didn't get the knife in all the way. Royce was even more aggravated and moved to hurt her-maybe even kill her-when a shot rang out and Royce fell over…dead. Her step-brother Garrett had killed him. Afterward, he told her and John to run. It was something that she would have rather kept buried, but Cassidy brought it up; to hurt her, nonetheless. But Alley was the one who agreed to this whole thing, and she had to be able to take what she was giving. She only hoped that she would last to the end.

Cassidy closed her eyes, reading the look on Alley's features perfectly. She really was a bitch sometimes, but Alley had TOTALLY started it. Her gaze softened as she turned to her friend, wrapping a crinkled arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she practically whispered. What was the matter with her? She wasn't supposed to be hurting Alley! She looked back at the young man, her eyes once again icy.

"This," she told him, "is what happens when us old girls start to think about the past. The nastiest stuff comes first."

The young interviewer was once again taken aback. Alley ignored him for a moment, instead turning to Cassidy with tears in her eyes that remained unshed. She knew too well what happened when they started talking about the past. Lord knows they fought about it enough when they were going through it.

"I'm sorry, too," she whispered. There was a few more seconds of silence when suddenly the weak voice of Richard broke through.

"M-maybe we should start with something a little bit…easier?"

Alley sat back, sighing deeply. "I don't think there was anything easy in our story."

The interviewer nodded and said, "Why don't you just start from the beginning?"

Alley turned to look at Cassidy, both sharing a similar expression. She sat forward, motioning for the interviewer to come forward as well. After a moment and another sigh, she said, "I remember the day I met John Lennon…"

**Addie AN: So...there you have it, our story! What did you think? I wrote more of it, you know.**

**Catie AN: Aw HELLLLLLLS NAW! **

**Addie AN: Ahh... yeah. I can prove it. Just read it, up there ^! So if you like it, it's cause of me. **

**Catie AN: No, if you LIKE it, it's probably because of MY parts. AKA the GOOD parts. Addie, you know what I think? **

**Addie AN: I don't know if I care. What I know is that you are delusional. I mean, how else can you explain you thinking this story is good because of you and that John is ugly? You are messed, dude.**

**Catie AN: Well, I bet you do care. I am NOT delusional! I refuse to let you call me that. Because YOU are the delusional one! Oh, and btw, John is a fugly dick. If I ever bought a pet pig, I would name it John Lennon.**

**Addie AN: I don't cause you suck! I'm not delusional. John is a sexy dick. That's a great name cause pet pigs are cute.**

**Catie AN: I happen to have SEEN John's dick, and I can guarantee you, it was not sexy. It was average and floppy and probably not as big as...say...GEORGE'S was. And Addie, you completely missed the metaphor.**

**Addie AN: Whatever he is still sexy. Always will be. I didn't miss the metaphor, Catie, I ignored it. There is a difference. **

**Catie AN: Hey guess what? YOU'RE A BITCH!**

**...just kidding**

**Addie AN: I could have told you that...**

**Catie AN: Well I figured it out for myself, thank you very much.**

**Addie AN: Well gee that must have been rather hard.**

**Catie AN: What are you implying?**

**Addie AN: You asking kinda sums it up.**

**Catie AN: Like I said...bitch. Anyways, I think this has gone on long enough. Soooo...review, guys, tell us what you think! **

**Addie AN: Whore. I mean... REVIEW PLEASE!**

**Catie AN: OH NO YOU DIDN'T! Girl, we gonna talk about this later. Review, or I'll...I'll...I'll...you wanna take this one? **

**Addie AN: Yeah yeah yeah... Sure. Review or we will throw you down a well and then off a cliff.**

**Catie AN: YESSSS! Okay, bye.**

**Addie AN: Horsedick out... ahh shit wrong place. Whatever, see ya!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Addie's AN: HI! I call the first AN (mostly cause I'm editing this chapter together and cause I said so!) Catie, will probably yell at me in her AN but whatever. Anyway, I just want to say thanks for the reviews, they do mean a lot! And I really think you're gonna like this chapter! So yeah…. Ok, Catie, what do you say? **

**Catie's AN: Well, first off, I say hey. Second, I say guys…I'm really sorry. (cough Addie ask me why cough)**

**Addie's AN: Why? And it better not be no John hate comment.**

**Catie's AN: Because this is a long-ass chapter. And I think we shouldn't add insult to injury by making a long-ass AN discussion. So…without further…er…what's that word? Ado? Okay, this is gonna be REALLY embarrassing if I didn't use that right. Haha, okay, so without further ado, here is chapter two!**

**(and I wasn't gonna say anything about John, but just to spite Addie…John is a fugly egomaniac who can go eat his fucking corn flakes at the bottom of my well, for all I care.)**

**Catie's VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY pissed AN: Hey guys. Yeah…so…uh…I could go on and on explaining how this came about, but I won't. Instead I'll just say that things got mixed, up and we forgot to add a SMALL scene in there somewhere. So…sorry. Haha ANYWAYS, if you're reading this, you're probably thinking…no, you're probably not even reading this in the first place. Whatever. But just take note, it's in there.**

"Get back here you ungrateful child!"

Alexandra Diamond- known to everyone as Alley- ran from her small backyard through the sliding door and into her kitchen. Her stepfather Royce had just found his golf clubs in the driveway and was now chasing her down with a hefty-looking nine iron. Unluckily for her, there was no one else up at the time- not that it mattered. Her mother was usually too wasted out of her mind to do anything and her step-brother couldn't't be bothered to give a fuck. Alley rushed to the closet door where her school bag was, grabbed it and made a run for the front door. She almost made it out- almost….

"Come back here!" Royce grabbed her long, dark brown hair and jerked her backwards towards him. She cried out in spite of herself and dropped the bag, bringing both hands to try and pry his off of her hair.

"Let go of me!" she screamed and tried twisting out of his grasp. But he was holding onto her with an iron grip and the more she struggled, the more it hurt. Finally, she just stopped and waited for him to say or do something.

"Why would you do this?" he whispered menacingly into her ear. He didn't give her a chance answer, choosing to spin her around and throw her into the door instead. She slammed into hard, and slid to the ground. She looked up at Royce, determined not to let any fear show. He kicked at her leg and she groaned. "ANSWER ME!"

Alley huffed and stared up at him, her green eyes shining with defiance. "I did it…. because I felt like doing it!"

Royce growled in anger and still holding the nine iron in his hand, swung down hard and hit Alley in the shoulder. She cried out but before he could hit her a second time, she stuck out her leg and tripped him. He fell backwards and landed on his back and then he lay there, stunned for the moment. Quickly, Alley grabbed her bag from the floor and darted out the front door, practically running the whole way to school.

_This was a crappy way to start the day. _

… Meanwhile …

"Cassidy! Wake up, sweetheart!"

Cassidy Farrell's eyes popped open. She glared at her wall, waiting for her mother to go away so that she could get up. But fucking Kiera was persistent.

"Cass! You don't want to be late for school!"

Cassidy sighed, knowing that the bitch was NEVER going to go away. So, she sat up, rubbing her eyes warily. "I'm up," she mumbled, whipping her covers off and throwing her legs out of bed.

Her mother clapped her hands cheerily, already peppy at seven o'clock in the morning. "Excellent! There's bacon and eggs waiting for you on the table when you're ready!" Then she left the room, on to wake up Cass's sister, Cecilia.

Another day, she thought, just another day. There would be school, homework, and a glowing, happy, perfect family. Well, God knew that since day one, it had been Cassidy's mission to destroy her said 'perfect family'. And, needless to say, it wasn't working.

She heard Cecilia chirp something to their mother from the room next door. It was probably something like: "Why, yes mother! I've been up for hours, there's already coffee in the pot!" Or: "Why, mother dearest, you look ill! Why don't you lie down for a while and have _me_ take care of breakfast?" What a little whorebag.

Directly beneath her, she could hear that her mother had entered the kitchen once more, and was chatting happily to her father, who was probably fully suited and sipping some orange juice, smiling away at his trophy wife.

Well you know what? Screw them all.

Cassidy gave up on getting dressed, instead just throwing on a pale blue blouse and a regulation skirt. She fixed her tangled curls, the stared into the mirror. Freckles. That was truly all she saw. Ughhhh. What, God, did she do to deserve this life? What fun was it to be in a perfect family if you were the only screw up? But, apparently God was busy, because he didn't answer her.

She moved over the wall, then began banging her head against it in complete desperation to feel something other than…worthless.

**BANG! BANG! BANG! BA-**

"Cassidy, what are you doing in there?" came Cecilia's high-pitched call.

Cassidy frowned, staring at the pink flowered wallpaper that only someone like her mother would pick out, trying to burn holes through it with her eyes. "Fucking the Prime Minister," she snarled back, wanting nothing more than to escape this horrible, perfect life of hers.

…

Cassidy knew that Alley might not already be at school; it all depended on how Royce was feeling that morning. She pushed her way through the hordes of kids, making her way to her locker. Once she was there, she leaned up against the locker next to her's, prepared to wait for her as long as she took.

Alley was just walking through the crowds when she saw her best friend Cassidy approach her locker. They usually met there everyday before class. They were in two different grades so the morning and lunchtime were the only times they got to see each other during school hours; unless they skipped of course. Alley walked quickly to her locker and nudged Cassidy from behind.

"Hey," she said tiredly.

Cass turned, her smile bright. But that immediately faded when she saw the look on her friend's face. "Fuck. That man has got something bad coming to him," she growled without even inquiring as to why Alley looked like death.

Alley shrugged, avoiding Cassidy's eyes. "It was nothing, really. You know Royce." She busied herself by digging around in her locker to find her science book. Science in the morning? Honestly, who's bright idea was that?

"Yeah," Cassidy said, still leaning against the other locker and staring at Alley with narrowed eyes, "I DO know him. And I also know that he's an asshole." She shook her head, confused as usual as to why Alley didn't try to get help from like...the police or something.

"Well, obviously," Alley replied, shutting her locker door with a loud bang. She sighed when she saw the look on her friend's face. "Look, Cass, I know what you're thinking. And believe me, I'd like nothing better to see that bastard behind bars... but... it just can't be done."

"Why not?" Cass asked. "Because of your mom?"

"Because of her," Alley said. "And because his reputation in this town. Everyone thinks he's this good guy- he has a lot of friends. He wouldn't stay in jail long. Then he would get out and then he would kill me." The last part came out bitterly and she couldn't help but angrily smash her fist against her locker.

Cass stared at her, wide eyed, not saying anything. What could she say to that? She had a painfully normal life. Sometimes she wished...no, that was fucking ridiculous, she shouldn't wish for that.

Alley took a breath and forced a smile onto her face. She usually didn't let her anger slip out like it and the look on Cassidy's face bothered her. Was it pity? Alley knew her situation was rough and she didn't need pity adding to it.

"Look," she said in her normal, calm voice. "Don't worry about it. He didn't do anything bad."

"Your view of 'bad' is pretty damn twisted," Cassidy hissed. "What'd he do? Smack you? Bash your head into a wall? Throw a glass at you? Oh, but nothing bad."

"Yeah well," Alley said with a shrug, leaning against her locker. She did have a habit of passing her problems off as nothing. She didn't need anyone feeling sorry for her. She turned her eyes to her friend's. "It wasn't bad, really. I might have even deserved it this time."

Cassidy's full lips became a hard line as she kept a few comments inside. She honestly didn't want Alley upset. That was counterproductive. "Whatever it was," she said, her words measured and careful, "I know you didn't deserve it."

Alley chuckled this time. "Relax. I know that. I just meant that- well, let's just say that this morning dear old Royce found his beloved golf clubs twisted and broken on the driveway. As if someone drove over them with a car. Repeatedly." Her green eyes held a mischievous twinkle as she remembered what she had done the night before.

Cass snorted, holding out her hand for a high five. "That's my girl."

Alley slapped her hand and laughed. "Well- he was being a dick last night." She considered the thought in her head for a moment. "Of course, this morning, he tried to attack me with said golf clubs but hey- what can you do? Maybe tonight I'll scratch his car..."

Just as she was saying this, the bell rang for first period. Cass shook her head, a smile forming on her lips. "You crazy bitch. It just never ends."

Alley shrugged. "What can I say? I'm chock full of entertainment." She looked at the other students as they ran every which way to their classrooms. "At lunch then, yeah?"

Cassidy nodded. "If I make it til then." She winced, remembering what was supposedly coming to her today.

Alley raised her eye-brows curiously. "Why you say that?"

Cassidy sighed, her head rolling back as she glared at the ceiling. "Well, you know Marilyn Bent? One of the girls in that senior class I'm in? Yeah, I caught her copying my test the other day, and of course, I didn't think twice about announcing what a cheating whore she was out loud to the rest of the class. And she told me she was gonna kill me today."

"Oh," Alley said with a nod. She couldn't help but smile a little. She had the so-called cheating whore in a few of her classes. "Don't worry about her. She coulnd't even throw a baseball 'cause she was afraid of breaking a nail. Besides, if she tries, I promise to beat her up for you."

Cassidy sighed dramatically. "It's the travesty of being a genius. The older people think they can walk all over you because you're an underclassmen in THEY'RE class." She shook her head. "I shouldn't have let Mam talk me into being in all those classes."

"Well no one told you to be smart now did they?" Alley said with a smirk. "It's the way the world works, you see. The older-classmen tell the younger ones what to do and they must listen." She cracked a full smile, something she rarely did. "Speaking of, why don't you go fetch me a coke?"

"Like hell I will," she responded swiftly, already heading towards her class, her previously-gotten books resting in her arms. "See ya later!"

Cass headed to her homeroom, totally focused on remembering her schedule. She had a TERRIBLE memory. People flew by her, parting like the Red Sea. She looked up to open the door, but there was already a hand there. Her gaze went up his arm, the length of his torso, and then to his face. She tried not gasp, but it was pretty hard. That was fucking Paul McCartney. He barely glanced at her, instead just pulling open the door and leaning back to say something this mate, who was already walking down the hallway.

"Don't forget it, John! Practice tonight!"

John? Like...John LENNON? She glanced down the hall, watching as he walked away. She had heard rumours of him, but had never talked to him. Paul walked inside the room. Cass couldn't believe she had never realized he was in her homeroom.

Back at her locker, Alley was getting ready to head over to science class. She didn't look up as she spun around and so she didn't have time to stop herself from bumping into someone. She bounced off this person and slammed backwards into her locker. When she looked up, she realized that she was staring into the face of Ronnie Hartman. He was the popular jock type; loved by most and hated by the rest. He was also a major player and tried to get several girls in bed- no matter who they were. Alley was not interested but Ronnie never seemed to take the hint.

"Hey there," Ronnie greeted with a cocky grin. He leaned one hand against the locker and looked down on Alley. He was tall- about 5'8 which was huge compared to Alley's little frame of 5'2. He had blonde hair that was in a neat crew cut and his eyes were like two pieces of charcoal.

"Get the fuck away from me, creep!" Alley spat and tried to move around him. Ronnie just reached out with his other hand and pulled her back, making her back hit against the lockers. He put his other hand on the other side of her so that she could not move.

"Is that anyway to speak to someone who wants to take you out tonight?" Ronnie replied, his Cheshire Cat grin seeming to grow larger by the minute. "Don't you see the deal you're getting? I'm giving you a chance to go out with me."

_What a cocky, self-righteous bastard! _Alley thought and scowled up at him. She was starting to freak out a little but she had learned early in life to never let her fear show. Instead, she just deepened her scowl and crossed her arms.

"Don't you feel lucky?" he asked. Alley shot him a death glare.

"Lucky? I wouldn't feel lucky with you even if you were shooting lottery tickets from your ass!" she snapped. She looked around to see if anyone else was in the hall, but they were alone. She needed to get out of this alone. And desperate times called for desperate measures. Without another moment of hesitation, she shot her knee upright, aiming for Ronnie's balls but he anticipated it and blocked it with one of his big, beefy hands.

A look of anger flashed in his eyes. "Don't be stupid," he warned. "If you wanted to see my balls-all you had to do was ask."

"Fuck off!" Alley practically screamed and tried to push him away but to no avail; Ronnie was stronger than her.

"Hey-" he said with licentious grin, "I know what will bring you around." He pinned both her arms to her side and began to lean forward.

Oh shit! He was going to try and kiss her. Alley tried to squirm away but Ronnie was holding her tightly. She finally stopped moving and decided to go with it. It would be over in a few seconds wouldn't it? That- or she could try kneeing him in the balls before his grubby lips touched hers. As he got closer, she shut her eyes and prayed to God that she would somehow get out this. A few seconds later, when she heard Ronnie groan, she opened her eyes to find him lying on the ground, another boy standing over him. The boy reached down and punched him four times before dropping his unconscious body on the cold hallway floor.

"What the hell?" Alley whispered, barely audible. The boy who had saved her spun around and she felt herself gasp a little. His eyes were intense and burned into hers. It was John Lennon- the bad boy who's reputation was well known around the school. Up until this moment, she had never really laid eyes on him, at least not from this close. His hair was swept up into a ducktail like Elvis and he looked slightly out of place in his school uniform. His face seemed to be set in a permanent scowl.

"Don't say thanks or nothing," he snapped at her, his eyes still staring straight into hers. Alley, feeling her pride flaring, crossed her arms over her chest.

"Thanks for what?"

John wordlessly gestured to the unconscious Ronnie lying on the floor who was softly groaning.. Alley stared right back at him, her stubbornness prevailing.

"I could have handled him myself," Alley replied hotly. "I don't need no one to save me."

"Whatever," John said with a slight smirk and walked off, not turning around. Alley watched him until he rounded the corner and then she hurriedly ran off to the class which she was now late for. She would just have to worry about this later.

…

Rumors were flying. And here's the thing: normally, Cassidy was oblivious to rumors; they just zoomed past her. But when she recognized a name in one of the whisperings going on next to her locker, her heart took an ominous plunge.

Honestly, the LAST thing Alley needed was to get in trouble again. Trouble found that girl like…well, she couldn't think of any metaphors. But still.

She slammed her locker door shut, all but sprinting towards her last class of the day, the one she happened to share with Alley: English. The route to English class from her locker was a tricky one. She could either go the short way, which went straight by the principal's office, or the long way, which was starting to get a little crowded now that people were finding out that there was another way through the building that DIDN'T include being screamed at by a middle aged, balding, fat ass disciplinarian.

Today, however, Cass REALLY needed to talk to Alley, as she was involved in the school's most recent batch of gossip. So, she took the dreaded Mr. Burns route. She could see some activity behind the frosted glass wall, but she totally ignored it. She put her head down, as all underclassmen were advised to do when there were older kids mucking about.

"That fucker has got something comin' to him, I tell ya-"

This was the little snippet of conversation she heard before BAM!, she crashed into something. Now, Cassidy wasn't exactly a tiny girl. She was at least five feet and six inches, and though she was thin, she still had some of the wiry, lean muscle from her youth. So she didn't fall, thank God, and neither did whatever she crashed into.

She looked up, a light blush coloring her cheeks, and got ready to start stammering apologies to the big bad senior she was SURE she was about to face. But instead, for the second time today her eyes ran across big, sleepy hazel eyes, chubby cheeks, Teddy Boy hair, and full lips. She blinked several times, in awe of such beauty, and was completely dumbfounded when he repeated her actions.

Say something, her mind urged her, try not to look like a TOTAL moron. "Hi," she breathed, unable to say anything more.

He looked at her strangely, his head cocked, a light smile tugging at his lips. "Hi." Then he chuckled shyly, his droopy eyes looking down at his feet. Cass looked down there, too, wondering what the fuck was going on.

"Er, Macca?" Paul turned and looked at him, his back now to Cassidy.

"What?"

"Are you done with Freckles? Because I was actually talking to you." John Lennon didn't even spare her a glance, and he didn't wait for Paul's response either. Without another word, he grabbed Paul's arm and yanked him off into the crowd, already going on about something else.

"Asshole," Cassidy muttered under her breath, then continued on her quest to English class.

Cassidy tried not look for Paul too much as she barrelled her way through the herd of kids moving in the opposite direction. When she finally got to the door, she turned the knob slowly, still searching. It seemed all too soon that she was walking into the classroom, taking her seat next to Alley who looked...Alleyish. "So?" she inquired, leaning towards her. "What happened?"

Alley was in some sort of daze and she didn't quite hear her. When her eyes finally settled on her friend she simply just said, "Oh...hi."

"Well?" Cass asked, expecting an answer. Mr...okay, she forgot his name, but-whoever-was scribbling on the chalkboard and was about to turn around.

"What? Oh!" Alley shook her head and pushed the thoughts away, focusing on Cassidy now. "Well- I was standing in the hall after you left and I was about to go to class when I turned and bumped into Ronnie. Actually bumped right into him."

"He's big," Cassidy noted, glancing up at the teacher, who at the same time looked at her. They made eye contact for a second, then he turned around and wrote something else on the board.

"Big? He's a fuckin' truck!" Alley excalimed and then lowered her voice when the teacher looked at her. "Anyway- he was trying to come on to me and I told him to leave alone. I tried to get away, even tried kneeing the bastard! But he had me trapped! So then-" Alley paused for a second, shuddering inwardly as she thought about the next part. "He tried to kiss me and just as he was about to, this guy pulled him off of me!"

Cassidy got an uneasy feeling in her stomach. She was a smart girl, she was able to put two and two together. She had seen John going down the same hallway that Ronnie and Alley were in earlier, and then just now she had seen him coming out of the principal's office. "You're not talking about-"

"John Lennon," Alley said with a nod. "Yeah- he just walked up to Ronnie, pulled him off me and then punched him like four times. Then he just looked at me and walked off."

Cassidy snorted. "Riiiiight. Like you didn't make some cocky ass remark to him first."

Alley couldn't hide her smile. "Okay... so I might have said that I was doing just fine and that his help wasn't necessary!" Her expression turned dark and serious though as she thought about it. "I don't need no men who thinks they're all that to save me!"

Cassidy rolled her eyes and was about to whisper something back, when Mr. Whoever cleared his throat.

"Alexandra!" he spat. "Alexandra's friend! Cease the vernacular!" He turned around, as though very satisfied with himself.

Cassidy scowled, straightening back and crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "It's Cassidy."

He turn around slowly, his face a dark, menacing red. "Excuse me?"

Cass sighed, then took the tone of an older person that was trying to explain something to a small child. "Myyyy naaame isss Casssiiiiddddyyy." She drew out every syllable, looking at him as though he was a fucking idiot.

Alley looked at Cassidy and then the teacher's angry expression and then burst into a fit of loud laughter. She was laughing so hard and she couldn't stop herself, something in that moment had just stuck her as funny.

Cassidy nudged her friend sharply. "Alley! Shut up, you stupid bitch!" Mr. Whoevenfuckingknows was glaring at them both, and the whole class was dead silent.

Alley tried to answer her but no sound came out of her mouth. Instead, she laughed even harder, tears streaming from her eyes. She was slapping the desk because she was laughing so much that her stomach was hurting.

Cassidy turned bright red, staring down at her desk and trying not to make eye contact with Mr. Jerkface. Why the hell couldn't she remember his name? The teacher slowly walk towards them, his feet making ominous CLACK, CLACK, CLACKing sounds. He bent down slowly, his face hovering inches from Alley's.

"Alexandra? Care to explain to us what's so funny?"

Alley stopped laughing for a moment, long enough to say, "No, not really." There was a few moments of silence that hung in the air and then, to the horror or everyone, she burst out laughing- right in the teacher's face.

Mr. Asshole's eyes got wide, and he began sputtering like crazy, spit bubbles landing on Alley's desk. Then, still sputtering, he grabbed her by the ear, towing her to the front of the class.

"Now, can anybody tell me what this is a prime example of?" he asked, gesturing towards his victim. Alley was in desperate need of saving, no matter how much she would normally deny it.

"You being a douche?" Cassidy shouted out, then immediately turning bright red. She had to watch it. There was still a chance that they could throw her out of the senior classes.

"Or!" Alley said, with clenched teeth. The teacher hold her ear hurt like hell but she wasn't about to show it. "This could be the teacher trying to show off to the class! Maintaining his tough reputation. Not that he has one!"

Mr. Stankbreath was caught in between them, not quite knowing which one to punish/humiliate next. Cassidy was kinda liking this whole defiance thing. Usually that was Alley (at least in school it was only Alley) and for once, she liked stepping out of the shadow.

"Or, this could be Mr. DICKHEAD dealing with repressed childhood memories. Did you have any friends to talk to when you were in school? Or did you just get your ear nearly torn off every day by your fucking English teacher?" Cassidy was quite impressed with herself. She had managed to remember his name after all.

The teacher blinked furiously, his jaw clenched, his face nearly purple. "It's DickSON, you little-"

"Well there's a dick in there somewhere," Alley interrupted with a laugh. "I think!"

Mr. Dickhead grabbed Cassidy's arm, tugging her out of her seat. He threw her next to Alley, then moved to go out the door. He was seething, looking as red as a fire truck. Cassidy was desperate. She REALLY didn't want to get in trouble. But she was already in a hole, so she decided to just stall.

"Yeah, that's right, get help for a couple of girls." Cass rolled her eyes. "While you're at it, do us all a favour and move out of your mom's house. And for the love of all things holy, get a breath mint."

He opened his mouth, about to say something else, when the door opened. Standing, perfectly framed, in the doorway was none other than the boy she had been looking for earlier.

"Er..." Paul muttered, looking down a little slip of paper. "Ms. Kinkel sent me to tell a Mr. Dickson," at this he snorted, "that she would like a word with him in his office." He looked up, his eyebrows raised at the look of fury on Mr. Dickhead's face and silent class and, finally, Cassidy and Alley standing up by the chalkboard.

Alley pointed towards the door. "Go ahead - excuse me, Dickface- Cass and I will keep the class entertained."

Just then, the bell rang, announcing the end of the day. Paul dropped the peice of paper on the ground, exiting the room, and the rest of the kids swarmed out, pushing past The Dick and the two girls still hovering at the front of the room.

"I will discuss this matter with you two tomorrow-and with your parents." And without another word, he was gone.

…

After the eventful day at school, John and Paul walked home- the way they always did. Paul was quiet, watching his friend rant and rave about what had happened to him that day.

"What the fuck, man?" John angrily spat, kicking at a rock as he and Paul walked home. He had been suspended many times before but today, he was pissed off about it.

Paul looked at his feet, so many thought going through his head. John's suspension was really the least of his problems. Though if Mimi got mad, that might mean no practice...

"Fuck, why are you so goddamn quiet?" John asked and then pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his front pocket and offered them to Paul.

Paul took a ciggy, but he made no move to light it. "Remember that girl? The one that ran into me by Burns's office?"

"Who, freckles?" John said with a snort. "Don't tell me you got a boner for her, Macca."

Paul looked up indignantly. "What? No, it's just...she's in my homeroom. I saw her this morning." He was quiet for a few more seconds before he added, "But even if I did, what's wrong with her?"

John chuckled and lit his cigarette, then leaning over to light Paul's. He took a drag and let out the smoke. "Fuck, I don't know," he replied with a shrug. "I guess we both met crazy birds today."

Paul nodded slowly, his hand with the cigarette coming up to his mouth. "What was that girl's name in the hallway? The one that got you in all this trouble?"

"What?" John said, half paying attention. He took another few slow, deliberate drags. Then finally he turned to Paul. "Who the fuck knows? Alley something or other. I didn't exactly stop and ask for her information."

Paul's cigarette hovered inches from his mouth, his features amused. "But you were willing to fuck up some guy for this...COMPLETELY random girl, yeah?" The things John did sometimes kept him entertained for weeks at a time, til he did something ELSE outrageous and stupid and equally as hilarious.

"Not really," John said coolly, throwing his cigarette over a fence and into someone's backyard. He shrugged and said matter-of-factly, "I didn't like the guy. Tried to trip me in the hallway this morning. Just needed an excuse to fuck him up good!"

Paul frowned, not having anything particular to say to this. He took one final drag from cigarette, then dropped it, snubbing it with the tip of his shoe. "Well," he said, nodding in the direction of the two girls walking on the opposite side of the street as them, "it looks like here's your chance to tell her that."

"What?" John followed Paul's gaze over to about fifteen feet in front of them. The two girls in question- the one John had saved and Freckles, the one Macca had a boner for, were walking ahead of them; talking and laughing. John felt a weird feeling in his stomach as he turned to Paul and said, "Let's go over and talk to 'em."

Paul's face fell. It wasn't that he was nervous...no, really he wasn't. He talked to girls all the time, didn't? And what was so special about Freckles anyway? Nothing. Nothing at all. Pshhh...he was SURE that he was way more experienced than her. Not that he wanted to do anything with her, just that-fuck, even his own mind was working against him.

"I was just kidding, John!"

"Yeah? Well I wasn't!" John could read his friend like a book sometimes. And besides, he kind of did want to talk to them. He grabbed Paul by the arm and started to drag him down the street, half-yelling at him in a posh accent. "Come on, son, pick up you're feet!"

Cassidy and Alley were walking on their way home, unaware that the boys were behind them. Alley was in a semi-quiet mood and Cassidy was freaking out over the incident in English class.

"If I never go back to that class again, I shall die a happy woman," Cassidy proclaimed, shaking her head with disgust. "I mean-my PARENTS? Shit, Mam is gonna have a heart attack when she realizes that I'm not just as perfect as she had always hoped for. And Da...ah, he'll probably just laugh. But still."

Alley chuckled and nodded. "Well, yeah, they might only have a heart attack. Now Royce-" Alley paused, pointing with her finger. "Royce is probably going to kill me. Shit, he's already gonna be waiting for me when i get home on account of this morning."

Cassidy looked at her, her face scrunched up from the strain of the sun in her eyes. "Why the hell are you so relaxed at the though of the Sleaze Monster killing you?"

"He's not gonna kill me," Alley said with a nonchalant wave of her hand. "Only beat me half to death!"

Cassidy stared at her friend with half amusement, half terror and was about to open her mouth and say something when she suddenly heard a shout from somewhere in the street.

"C'mon, John! Lemme go!"

Alley spun around and saw John Lennon, the boy who had saved her today and his friend. Alley recognized him as Paul McCartney. She had heard of these two boys but never really met them. She felt a flutter in her chest as they approached but she ignored it and just waited for one of them to say something.

John pulled Paul forward until they stopped in front of the girls. He leaned one shoulder against his shorter friend and stared at them in the way he always stared at people; expressionless face and eyes blazing.

"Well... fancy meetin' you here."

Paul just kinda stood there, awkward as hell. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to flirt? Act tough? Hell, he didn't even wanna BE there. Cassidy looked up, wincing.

"Oh, God, it's you," she said, automatically not liking this guy. What was his problem? He wasn't any hot shit.

"What the fuck that's supposed to mean?" John asked, putting one hand over his heart and pretending to look hurt. "That's no way treat someone who saved your best friend over there."

Alley scoffed. "You didn't save me! I could have fucking saved myself!" John just looked at her with his intense gaze and smirked. Alley, who noticed how Cass was staring at Paul nudged John. "Who's your friend?"

"Paul McCartney," Paul said, sticking out his hand.

Cassidy stared down at it for a second. Did he expect her to...shake his hand? She almost laughed. Who shook hands these days, anyways? She looked back up at him, ignoring the hand.

"Cassidy Farrell." She scrunched up her nose. "You stalking me or something?" Paul blushed, his hand retreating. Then Cass looked back to John. "I don't like you," she said without thinking. What? She didn't like him? She hardly even KNEW him! But she just got this feeling...John was bad news. And the last thing Alley needed in her life was MORE bad news.

Alley slugged Cass in the shoulder and told her to shut-up. "Sorry," she said to John. "My friend here can be retarded."

Alley cast a glance over at Paul and smiled. "And nice to meet you Paul," she said. She looked him over and decided that she liked him. He was pretty cute and he seemed like a nice guy. But then there was the other one. John was a polar opposite to his friend. He was dark-haired and angry looking and he sometimes could infuriate Alley with the things he said but- there was just something about him.

"Well," John said, with a scoffing chuckle. "I'm not fond of you either, Freckles! You're right," he said, turning to Alley. "She does look a little retarded."

"A little retarded?" Cass asked, glancing around her and craning her neck. "I don't see your mother anywhere around here." She put her hands on hips, glaring at him. Ugh. Some people.

Paul's eyes widened, and he started shaking his head in tight little jerks. John didn't take well to mother jokes. He was slightly scared for Cassidy.

John's eyes flashed with anger and he had to restrain himself from saying anything that would possibly land him in deeper shit than he was already in. It bothered him when someone said anything about his mother and he usually reacted angrily. Just ask the boy who called his mother a whore. He was still in the hospital. John clenched his fist tightly but forced a smile on his face.

"Why don't you run along home and play with your dollies," he said.

Alley looked between the both of them after she noticed the look Paul had on his face. For a spilt second, she thought John would do something he had a reputation for but she was relieved when he didn't.

Cassidy stared at John, not really offended. It was just that she expected him to say something worse to her. She cocked her head, rasing her eyebrow. "Er...okay?" She kinda laughed, unsure. Paul blew out the breath he was holding. That could have been MUCH worse.

Alley shook her head, glad John didn't blow up like he looked like he was going to. She touched Cassidy light on the shoulder and nodded her head to the side. "We should go now. I gotta be home, you know." She turned to the boys and gestured to them. "See you in school tomorrow, then?"

"Nah," John replied, some of the anger returning to his face. "Stupid, fucking prick of a principal suspended me for tomorrow. You know," he said, leaning in close to Alley. "For saving you." He turned back and began walking across the street, waving over his shoulder. "Let's go McCartney!"

Cassidy pushed past John, not even looking at him. "Bye, Paul." She smiled at him. "See ya tomorrow."

Paul turned, following John. He started walking backwards down the street. "Yeah," he said, a grin spreading across his face. God only knew why. "See ya tomorrow, Cass." Then he turned around, bounding to John's side.

Alley watched them leave and then turned back, walking straight in the direction of her and Cassidy's houses. She was grinning in spite of herself and she had her head down, trying to hide it from Cass. She wasn't sure why she was smiling, it was just that, John had some sort of effect on her and she couldn't quite place what it was. Was it a crush, was it his reputation, was it his charm? Alley wasn't sure.

What she was sure of though was how goofily both Cass and Paul were acting towards each other, smiling and talking shyly. If it was anyone other than her best friend, she would have puked at such cutsey behaviour. But as they got closer to her house, she began to think less about the boys and more about Royce waiting for her. And if she was unlucky enough, her idiot step-brother would be there too.

Cassidy glanced behind them as they started walking away. God, Paul had a REALLY cute butt. ...Oh God, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE say that she didn't really just think that. Cass glanced at Alley suddenly scared she could read her mind. Then she looked over her shoulder once more, and saw the boy that Paul was walking next to.

"Alley," Cassidy sighed, breaking her out of the trance she seemed to be in. "I don't like him. Like...I REALLY don't like him. John, I mean. I just...I get a bad feeling around him." She looked down at her friend. She always worried about her, even though Alley was the elder of the pair. She knew Royce, and she knew that he was ruthless. One of these days...

John had a reputation. That alone made her queasy, but it was also the fact that he was the school's resident bad boy. And that came with ALL the perks. The smoking, the drinking like crazy, the piggishness around women, and...well, last week her friend Molly McClusky came to school with a black eye. She had been the most recent to date John, and while she wasn't one to point fingers, that looked awfully suspicious.

Alley sighed, giving her friend a look. "Don't start, Cass. Just because he's the school bad boy and because you don't like him doesn't mean he's bad. Besides," she added, taking on one of her famous stone-faced expressions where you couldn't tell what she was feeling or thinking, "it's not like I like the guy or nothing. And how about you and McCartney over there?"

Alley was happy to change the subject- she didn't want to talk about John anymore, even if she wasn't sure exactly how she felt about him. It was all very complicated and at the moment, she had more things to worry about. She considered asking Cass to come into the house with her. Far be it from her to run from anything- she wasn't about to be one of those women who cower in fear all the time- but she knew if someone else was there, Royce wouldn't touch her. It would at least give her a few more hours of peace and painless freedom. And then hopefully by the time Cass left, Royce would be too drunk to even move- maybe even passed out. She sighed, looking over at Cass and still contemplating if she should ask or not.

Cassidy scowled. "I don't know WHAT you're talking about," she said curtly. That was the BIGGEST difference between Alley and Cass: Alley hid what she was feeling deep, deep down. But Cassidy...she wore her expressions clearly on her face. She was as easy to read as a book. "And don't think I didn't notice that subject change." She nudged her, grinning sneakily.

Alley nodded and chuckled. "You know, I have no idea what YOU'RE talking about." After a few more steps ahead, Alley leaned against a nearby light pole and allowed a serious expression to cross her face. "Hey- Cass- listen... umm...do you want to.. you know... come in for a while?" She was secretly pleading Cass to agree but she would never let her desperate feelings ever show, not even her best friend. She had tried to make the request sound casual. But she knew that Cass knew better.

Cassidy stopped, too, looking at her friend. Of course she would say yes, and Alley knew that. But she also knew that she couldn't just out and say yes, because then Alley would suspect that she felt bad for her. Her best friend had tremendous amounts of pride, and was always protecting that pride.

"Er...well, I guess. Just to avoid going home to Mam and The Bitch, you know?" She laughed lightly, knowing that Alley would understand that Cecilia was The Bitch. Actually, she should call Kiera and Cecilia the Fake Twins. Ugh, she couldn't stand them. Thank God for her Da, because if it wasn't for him, she would be gone.

"Well of course," Alley said with a grin. "Anything to avoid the Bitch!" She laughed, feeling a little lighter and happier now that she didn't have to face Royce alone. Tomorrow, after Dickhead the teacher called home, she'd be in some pretty deep shit so she figured she should at least have the night off.

Cassidy nodded, grinning, then started making her way up Alley's front steps, chatting on and on about something that probably didn't even mean anything. "And Alley?" she asked, stopping just before the door.

"What?" Alley asked, stopping to lean against the front door. Every time she approached this door, she had to force herself to go in. Her mind always screamed at her to turn and run and never come back but she never did. She couldn't. Maybe one day she would.

"Just so we're clear about Paul and John and all that stuff, neither of us knows what the other is talking about, right?" Cassidy raised her eyebrows, making sure that Alley understood. It was like making a pact without promising anything.

Alley smirked. "Talking about who-now?"

Cassidy nodded. "Exactly."

Alley smiled at Cass and then put her hand on the door knob, turning it slowly and pushing open the door without making any noise. They walked in, intending to spend the rest of the afternoon just hanging out and doing what best friends do.

…

**Catie AN: Whew…I'm a little winded after that one! Jesus Christ Almighty!**

**Addie AN: Shit, man, I know. That was pretty damn intense. And you know what?**

**Catie AN: No, I do not know what. And I'm wondering…do I care?**

**Addie AN: I don't care if you care, I'm gonna fucking say it anyway... John is really sexy tee-hee. Very much attracted to his teenage self.**

**Catie AN: Trying…so…hard…not…to…make…a…nasty…comment!**

**Addie AN: Good. I would have ignored it anyway.**

**Catie AN: Well, I think Paul was pretty adorable, if you ask me. But of course, you would never ask me. GOD FORBID SOMEONE ASKS ME! **

**Addie AN: Ignore her, people, she is prone to throw a hissy every now and again.**

**Catie AN: I prefer the term 'bitch fit' thank you very much. And if all you're gonna do is make funny of me, then FINE! I guess we're done here. Soooo…REVIEW! Bitch, do you have any last words?**

**Addie AN: Thanks for asking, whore. Yes, I do. Review everyone- make sure and praise the sexiness of John ok?**

**Catie AN: OR you could review and support me in saying that ADDIE IS DELUSIONAL! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Catie AN: Well guys…we're back. And this time, the chapter is LONGER! Hells yeah, bitches. You read that right. Haha, (oh, God, I almost put 'lol' right there…WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO?) so, in case you didn't see my very, very, very, very pissed AN in the last chapter, SOMEONE forgot to put a scene in and the story didn't make sense in a little part because of it. SO, it's in there now, and if you wanna go back and take a little looksy, be my guest. And if you don't? Well then, you're a cocksucker and I hate you. WHAT? WHO SAID THAT?**

**Addie AN: Hey now, the "hahaha lol" is my thing, don't you know. And yes, people, this chapter is super long but I think you'll like it! And jeez Catie, you make one little mistake and you're branded for life! But anyway guys, go back and read the 2nd chap and then read this one! And duh, review... oh yeah and PS: Copy machines did exist back then.**

**Catie AN: I would also like to say that you all have offended me VERY much. Ask me why, Addie.**

**Addie AN: That's a name of a Beatles song... I mean, why are you offended Catie?**

**Catie AN: BECAUSE! Apparently no body is a Paul-fan anymore. And do you wanna know why I think that is? I think it's because everyone thinks that Paul-fans are the most common. And seriously? Newsflash people! Look around! Everyone thinks Ringo is awesome, everyone apparently thinks John is sexy (*throws up*), and the most common Favorite Beatle Ever is George. So…yeah. And if you are among that apparently SCARCE ranks of the Paul-fans, gimme a holla…because I', lonely. Anyways, I'm done ranting. And now it's time for the chapter! Chapter three:**

Alley groaned as she tried to switch sides while lying on her bed. After the English teacher had called home and after Royce and Cass's parents met with him, Royce kind of snapped. Now she was lying on her bed, talking to Cassidy who was sitting on her white desk chair.

Cassidy had been there when Royce had gotten angry. She was across the parking lot, stepping into her parent's pride and joy, when she heard Alley cry out. She had never seen Royce actually hit Alley; only seeing the results. Alley didn't know that Cass had seen.

"That sucked."

"No shit," Alley said with a groan, finally able to push herself up until she was propped up on her elbows. She was in pain but you couldn't tell by looking at her, most of the time Royce hit her where other people couldn't see the marks. "It more than sucked," she continued. "It blowed!"

"I swear to God, Dickhead has it out for me just because I'm younger." Cass pulled her feet up onto the chair, resting her chin on top of them. "But at least we didn't get into any BIG trouble."

"I guess," Alley said, forcing a grin onto her face. She didn't want to make her pain evident; not even to her best friend. "It doesn't matter. There's lots of English classes left- which means more fun to be had."

Cassidy laughed stiffly. In truth, she wasn't really much of a rebel. She liked to think she was, but the facts proved that really, she DID worry about her grades and whether people liked her and that sort of thing. "Seriously though...I don't know what was wrong with me. It was like...it was like I just couldn't stop."

Alley laughed, remembering what went down in the classroom. "It was awesome!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with laughter. "I mean, come on, he was ready to burst!"

Cassidy smiled a little bit, totally involuntarily. "I thought he was gonna kill us."

"I know," Alley said, shaking her head. "I can't believe how weak he is! If it was the principal- shit man, we actually WOULD be killed!"

Cassidy nodded slowly. "Thank God Da talked him out of talking to the principal about us. That would have been..." She shuddered, not knowing how to go on. Then she glanced up at the clock. "Speaking of Da," she said, standing up walking over to the door. "He told me to home twenty minutes ago. See ya tomorrow."

"Ok," Alley said with a nod, leaning back onto her bed. "I think I might take a nap. See you in school tomorrow!"

…

Alley sighed to herself as she walked down the street to the school. She had already been running late that morning thanks to her alarm clock that was prone to hissy fits and only went off when it wanted to. Since her mother was too drunk and passed out to even bother to wake her and her evil bastard of a stepbrother Garrett was still out from the night before, it was up to Royce to wake her up. Once he had realized that there was no breakfast waiting for him like usual, he charged up the stairs like a wild buffalo and dragged her out of the bed by her hair. Of course, he didn't pay any attention to her when she said her alarm clock didn't go off. He just warned her to stop making excuses and to make his breakfast before he got really angry.

Like usual, Royce was just beginning his day of endless drinking. By the time Alley had gotten dressed and arrived in the kitchen, Royce had already finished his fourth can of beer. After about another four or five, he would break out the hard stuff. Alley would get chills down her spine just by looking at him; he always having a dangerous and evil glint in his cold, dark eyes. Once she had finished making his breakfast, she realized she was already late and by the time she would get to school; first period would have already ended. But Royce made her stay even longer; complaining that his breakfast was not satisfactory and dumping it on the floor—forcing Alley to make it again. By the time she finally was able to escape, it was nearly nine-thirty. School began at eight-thirty.

As she stepped onto the lawn and began to walk across, the bell marking the end of first period rang and she stopped, mumbling to herself and shaking her head. A voice called out to her and startled her. She almost dropped her bag. She looked towards the direction of the voice.

"Oh. It's _you._"

The boy laughed and Alley made her way towards him. It was John Lennon, the boy who had saved her from the thug that was bothering her at school. Not that she needed to be saved of course, but the point was, he had saved her. He was leaning against the bike racks, smoking as if he had no cares in the world. She noticed that he was wearing the required school uniform—grey pants and a dark black blazer embroidered with the red and gold school crest. But he looked different from the other boys. His white button-up shirt was not buttoned all the way and was un-tucked from his pants. The regulation tie the boys were supposed to wear hung loosely around his neck. She raised her eye-brows at him.

"Cutting, then?"

John smirked, blowing out the smoke and letting it curl around his face. "Of course. Who wants to be stick in there all day?" He nodded his head towards the school without looking back. He cocked his to the side and stopped smoking for the moment. He was sizing her up and she was beginning to feel self-conscious. After a few more seconds, he took a drag and let the smoke out. "Late, then?"

Alley shrugged. "What's it to you?" She moved closer, unsure of what to do. After a split-second contemplation, she leaned next to him on the bike rack ledge. He slid over just a little bit. "I'm cutting," she finally said.

This caused John to laugh, a high-pitched, screeching bird kind of laugh. Alley thought that he sounded like a retarded mouse on drugs. She crossed her arms though, half-offended by his laughing at her. She fixed him with a cool stare, her green eyes not giving anything away.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?" she asked, still staring at him. He stopped laughing and turned his head to look at her. He took a last drag on his cigarette and threw it to the ground.

"Ladies shouldn't swear, you know," he said with a smirk. Alley scoffed.

"Fuck that. Tell me what the fuck you were laughing at."

"You," he said, looking her up and down once more. "A goody-goody like you cutting class."

All right, now Alley was offended. Who the hell was this guy to judge her so quickly? She felt like reaching over and punching him. But she had heard stories of his temper and just the other day she witnessed him punching the boy who was harassing her. Something told her that she did not want to be on the bad side of his temper. But Alley had a temper of her own and there was only so much she could take before she snapped.

"Fuck you," Alley snapped, giving him an angry death glare.

"When and where, luv?" John asked his smirk wide and his eyes suggestive. Alley snorted in disgust.

"Bastard."

"Gee thanks."

There was silence between them for a few moments. Alley was sitting there fuming at the way John was acting and John was just sitting there, watching her with an amused expression dancing on his lips. He fished out his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and took one out. He held the package towards Alley and she took one from the pack. John lit hers with his silver lighter and then his own. They sat like that for a while, taking quiet drags on their cigarettes and watching as the smoke curled around them. Finally, Alley looked over to him.

"I'm not a goody-goody."

John chuckled. "Coulda fooled me."

Alley shook her head. "What the hell are you talking about?" she asked. "You know nothing about me."

"I've seen you around," was John's reply. He looked straight ahead and smoked as his talked. "You get the grades, you always go to class. Although, you do hang out with that crazy bitch."

Alley had to laugh at that. Cassidy could have that effect on people sometimes. The day they had met, she and John had butt heads. Of course, Alley was pretty much the same way and she would gladly admit that John infuriated her to no end. But there was something else there. She just didn't know what it was exactly—not yet anyway. She took in a breath, threw her cigarette to the ground and waited a few moments before saying,

"You really know nothing about me. So what if I get good grades? Doesn't mean I'm a goddamn goody-goody!"

"Right," John said sarcastically. Suddenly, it seemed like an idea struck him. He threw down his cigarette quickly and stood, standing face to face with Alley. She was staring into his intense eyes that seemed to glow with mischief but also with mystery. "Prove it, then," he said.

Alley raised her eye-brows. "Prove what?"

"You said you ain't a goody-goody," John said. He smirked again and this time it reached his eyes. "Prove it."

"How?" Alley asked, staring at John like he was growing a second head. "I'm already cutting class aren't I?"

John scoffed. "Oh please. Everyone does that. I'm talking about—something bigger."

"Like what?" Alley asked with a tired sigh. She didn't get much sleep the night before. Royce had gotten angry at her for breaking a glass and he slammed her head against the wall.

"You meet me here tonight," John said with a hint of mischievousness in his voice. "We're breaking in. Gonna do a little redecorating—to the principal's office especially." John leaned forward, putting one hand on either side of her and leaning in until their faces were less than an inch apart. "Are you game?"

Alley sucked in a breath. She had never done anything like that before. Sure, she did a few harmless pranks here and there but nothing big as breaking in and "redecorating." And he certainly did not have to prove anything to John—she knew who she was and she did not have to go out of her way to show anyone who didn't see it. But then another thought crossed her mind.

_Royce._

Her step-father would be absolutely pissed if she did something like that. He said that the thing he hated the most was to be embarrassed. Of course, he was the most embarrassing thing on the planet earth. What kind of man would drink himself into a stupor and beat the only children he had? Sure, he had his nice guy reputation for the school and for society; only few people knew what a sadistic, abusive bastard he was. Alley smiled as she thought how people would look at him should she and John get caught. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard her conscience telling her that Royce would all but kill her for this. But it didn't matter. This was a personal dig towards him and it felt good to have some sort of upper hand. Besides—who said they would get caught in the first place?

Alley looked straight into John's eyes. "I'm game." She put both hands on his chest and pushed him away. She stood and headed toward the building. She would go to class after all.

"Nine!" John called after her. "Front of the school!"

Alley raised her hand in response without looking back. After a few moments, she disappeared into the school and headed to the main office to pick up a late slip. As she headed towards her class, she silently hoped the night would go well.

…

Ding-DONNGGGGGGGGGGG.

Cassidy was in the living room after school that day (which Alley had never shown up to), pouring over her favorite book in the world (Wuthering Heights) when she heard it. She expected her sister to come running down the stairs to answer it as it was PROBABLY one of her friends, but there was no familiar WHOOOSH of Cecilia's bedroom door opening nor was there that annoying squeal of delight that someone came to see her.

Cass sighed, throwing her worn out book to the side and moving to answer the door. She pulled it open, expecting to see some unfamiliar face that was Cecilia's best friend of the week, but instead she saw not a girl, but a boy.

He was probably just as tall as Cass, with a full, dark brow and dark brown eyes. His hair was greased into a wannabe-Teddy Boy style, and his trousers didn't quite reach his ankles, suggesting a recent growth spurt. To her, he just SCREAMED fourteen year old boy.

"'Ello," she greeted, leaning again the doorjamb and looking him over. "Grown up a bit, eh George?"

The boy looked down at his overly larger feet, his hands clasped together in front of him. "Yeah, a bit," he mumbled shyly.

Cassidy beamed, loving everything about this kid. "You lookin' for Cecilia?"

George looked up, his usually serious eyes wide and hopeful. "Is she in?"

She thought about saying no, if only because she REALLY did like little Georgie Harrison, and she hated it so much when Cecilia rejected him. And there was no doubt in her mind that Cecilia would reject him; she did every time.

"Er…she's…"

Just then, the Bitch herself came flouncing down the stairs in a fitted, pale yellow dress. Her blonde hair was hairsprayed to perfection, and she reeked of perfume. Her dark blue eyes shimmered, outlined in black, and her normally pale pink lips were painted a vivid red.

"Cecilia," George breathed, at once straightening up and trying to look taller than he really was. "You look lovely."

Cecilia looked over his shoulder purposefully, and at once Cass got a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Er…thanks. George, was it?"

He looked down at his big feet once more, a light blush dusting his prominent cheek bones. "Yeah, that's right."

Cassidy folded her arms. What a little bitch! Here, one of the sweetest, cutest, nicest guys she'll probably ever know is standing on her doorstep, and Cecilia won't even give him a chance. She really didn't want to think badly of her sister, but that was a PRETTY douchey move.

Cecilia didn't say anything to him, merely looking up at Cassidy. "I'm going out, alright?"

Cassidy narrowed her eyes. "Why the fuck would that be alright? Mam and Da said not to let you go anywhere. Any. Where."

"What they don't know can't hurt 'em." Cecilia smiled cockily, reaching her hand up to fluff her hair.

"Or," Cassidy hissed, "what I tell them can hurt YOU." The sisters glared at each other, their arms both crossed, hate rays shooting out of their eyes.

George just stood there, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the pavement. Finally, he took a breath and looked up, taking the silence as a chance to talk. "So, Cecilia, I was wondering-"

"No."

He frowned. "You didn't even know what I was gonna say…"

"Yeah, I did." She pushed past Cass, stepping out onto the pavement, standing in front of George with her arms crossed. "You were gonna ask me out AGAIN. And frankly, I'm just not interested. I already HAVE a boyfriend."

This was news to Cassidy. "Hey! Cel, you get back here right now and apologize!"

As she was saying this, a car pulled up in front of the house, idling there. Cecilia glided down the front walk, hardly even glancing back when she said breezily, "I'll be back before eleven! Don't wait up."

Oh believe me bitch, she thought viciously, I won't. She ran after her sister, who was already in the car. She stood on the curb, watching as the car drove away, and tried to think of the most threatening curse she could. "I'M TELLING MAM!"

When the car rounded the corner, Cassidy took a deep breath, turning around and getting ready to say something encouraging to George. But when she looked, she found the front stoop empty. He was gone.

…..

Alley stood at the window in her room, watching Cassidy play with her stuffed hedgehog. Even though she promised herself she wouldn't, she had been thinking about her conversation with John all day and how that night, they were going to break into the school. She had contemplated telling Cassidy the whole day and now, she turned to her; her mind made up. "Cass?"

Cassidy always was one to be easily amused. So, after the whole Cecilia/George scandal, she ran to Alley's ready to tell her everything. But then, she saw the stuffed hedgehog on her bed, and instantly she named him Mr. Huffletruffle and fell in love. When Alley said her name, she put Mr. Huffletruffle in her lap and looked up. "Huh?"

"Okay," Alley said, venturing forward to sit on the bed. She stared straight into Cassidy's eyes. "I have to tell you something, but you can't tell anyone!"

Cassidy's eyes widened, her jaw dropping. "Don't tell me-you," she clapped her hands over Mr. Huffletruffle's ears," fucked that John creature?"

"What?" Alley laughed with wide eyes. "Shit- no! God- nothing like that." She wasn't sure why but that comment made her feel strange inside. She shook it off and explained, "I met John at the bike racks today. He told me I was a goody goody and I said I wasn't and so he challenged me to pull a prank with him tonight."

"Anybody's a goody goody compared to...HIM." She dared not say his name. Instead, she just shook her hair back over her shoulders, taking Mr. Huffletruffle into her arms and cradling him. "Besides, what do you mean by 'prank'?"

"I think he put it as," Alley's eyes sparkled with mischief as she thought about it, "'redecorating the principal's office.'"

"Don't," Cass said immediately. It wasn't that she didn't love to get into a little bit of trouble now and again, and normally she didn't give too thoughts about anything she did. But something in her gut told her that this whole John thing was not a good idea. He practically had 'STAY AWAY!' stamped on his forehead.

"Fuck, why not?" Alley asked, her voice raising ever so slightly in anger. She hated when people told her what to do- best friend or not. If anything, it made her want to do it more. She gave her friend a defiant stare and crossed her arms. "I'm doing it," she said vehemently. "I was going to ask you to be a look-out but I don't care if you come or not! I'm doing it!"

"Ughhh..." Cassidy's head fell heavily into her hands, her elbows resting on her knees and caging Mr. Huffletruffle. She couldn't exactly just let Alley go alone. What if something happened? God knew how guilty she would be if she didn't go.

Alley blew out a breath, watching her friend contemplate. She didn't mean to burst out in anger but she was determined to go and do that prank with John. It wasn't that she wanted to prove herself to him and not even because she wanted to spite Royce- there was just something inside of her that made her feel like she HAD to do this. And everyone who knew Alley knew that once she set her mind to something, there was no going back. She was going to meet John at the school tonight and follow throw with the prank, just as she had said. Secretly, she wanted Cassidy to come along but it still wasn't going to stop her if she didn't.

Cassidy straightened up, her gaze murderous. "Fine. But if I get in trouble I'm totally blaming you."

Alley grinned. "Don't worry, you won't get in trouble. You'll just be a look-out. If anyone gets caught, it's me and John."

There was something in the way she had said "me and John" that sounded funny but she didn't seem to notice. She felt a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach- although it was more excitement for doing the prank than worry about getting caught.

Cassidy noticed Alley's stony face slip up for once, and for a moment she looked like was...worried? Nervous? Unsure? Cass couldn't be sure. "You and John," she repeated, giving her a skeptical look. "THAT'S gonna look real good."

"What?" Alley asked, raising her eye-brows at Cass's look. Her usual stone-faced look returned and she was half-glaring at her best friend. "What's that's supposed to mean? It's not like he's beneath us or something! He's just a goddamn person in the same situation as everyone else! Just because he has a rep doesn't mean anyone should look down on him!" She blew out another breath, surprised at her outburst.

"Well," Cassidy said coolly, "you've obviously put a lot of thought into this." She crossed her arms, staring at her friend, not willing to back down this time. Alley wasn't gonna sway her opinion, no matter how many tantrums she threw, no matter how many times she got in her face completely screaming. That bad feeling was still there, and she knew that it wasn't gonna go away until John Lennon was completely out of the picture.

"No, I didn't," Alley said in a controlled voice. She wasn't about to get into a fight with Cassidy now. She respected the fact that Cass felt worried or whatever but Alley didn't need anyone to worry about her, she didn't need anyone's pity, she didn't need nothing from no one! She locked eyes with Cass. "You need to relax, all right? I don't give two fucks what you think about John! I'm doing it!"

"_I_ need to relax?" Cassidy asked, her eyebrows raised. She suddenly stood up, Mr. Huffletruffle falling off her lap. "You know what? I'll come tonight and be look-out or whatever. Or do you not give two fucks about that, either?" And with that, she strode out of the house, shaking her head and wondering what, exactly, was going on with people these days.

Alley shook her head, watching Cassidy as she left. She contemplated going after her but she knew that she needed some time to calm herself down. Besides, Alley didn't feel like chasing her best friend all over town just to get her to see her point of view. She leaned back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling and imagining how the coming few hours would play out.

…

John leaned against the door to his Aunt Mimi's house, his guitar in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Paul was tuning his guitar and John was staring at him, waiting for an answer. He had just finished telling Paul about his and Alley's plan to sneak into the school and trash their fuckhead of a principal's office. He was waiting for Paul to respond-to either tell him that it was a pretty rocking plan or to be his normal self and warn him against going. Either way, John wanted an answer.

Paul sighed, looking up from his guitar. "Don't," he said, slightly cautious as usual. He ran his fingers over the frets, plucking random strings.

John chuckled and flicked his cigarette across the yard. "Oh Macca-," he said with a wide grin, "You're so fucking square sometimes, you know that?"

Paul shrugged, strumming out a few chords. Finally, he looked up at his friend. "You're gonna get in trouble. And when you do, don't come crying to me." He thought this over, than added in an undertone, "Not like you ever DO."

"Exactly!" John said with another grin and then sat on the wicker chair, plucking at his own guitar. "I never come crying to you. I don't go crying to no one." He shrugged, lighting up another cigarette out of pure boredom. "Who even says we're gonna cut caught? Just relax, McCartney." He reached over to punch him on the shoulder. "Lighten up, son!"

Paul looked up, his eyes narrowed. "And WHY are you doing this with that girl?"

John shrugged. "I bet her to do it. Prove that she ain't such a goody goody."

"Anybody's a goody goody compared to you," Paul pointed out, not exactly pleasantly. No matter how much his brain was denying it, his gut knew that John was about to talk him into doing yet ANOTHER thing that he didn't want to do.

"Oh please," John scoffed, rolling his eyes at his friend. It's not like he was so horrible- just different. Fuck anyone else who couldn't see it. He turned to Paul, his eyes glowing. "So Macca- you game to be a lookout?"

Paul rolled his head up, his eyes searching the deep grey Liverpudlian sky for the answer as to why HE had to be friends with the monster standing before him. "Errr...I dunno..."

John sighed, throwing yet another cigarette into his aunt's lawn. "Listen to me, Macca," John said, turning to his friend. "You're always goin' on about how I shouldn't be gettin' into trouble. Well here's your chance to help me not get into trouble."

Paul scrunched up his face. "How does that even make sense?" he asked, throwing his arms up and almost dropping his guitar. Once his baby was safely settled in his arms again, he looked up. "No matter if I go or not, you're still going to be going there, causing trouble."

"Causing trouble, yes" John agreed. But there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and he couldn't help but grin wickedly. "But- if you're the look-out, we won't get caught now will we?"

The other boy stared down at his hands. He had to admit; John did have a point. Then again, didn't he always? "Fine. I'll do it. But I WON'T be happy about it." And then he stood up, done with practice, and marched away. As he went, he shook his head, wondering what the fuck was wrong with people these days.

John nearly laughed as he watched his friend's retreating back. He leaned his guitar against the house and fished out his last cigarette from the pack in his pocket and put it in his mouth, leaving it unlit and hanging there. As he saw the last of Paul before he rounded the corner, he scoffed to himself. Paul was his friend- one of this best friends, but sometimes, he felt like he didn't understand properly- no one really did. He sighed and lit his cigarette, watching the birds as they flew around the sky. He closed his eyes, pushing any and all thoughts from his mind.

Tonight, there would be some fun to be had.

….

Cass and Alley walked in heated silence (both still fuming from the earlier incident, but not exactly mad) towards the alley behind the school. Up ahead, Cassidy could make out two tall, slim figures leaning against a brick wall. TWO people? She thought it was only supposed to be John...

"Hey!" Alley said, pointing towards the pole where she saw the outlines of two figures. "It's..." she strained her eyes, trying to make out the silhouette next to John's, "...Paul, I think."

Cassidy felt her heart plummet to the bottom of her stomach, and she almost gasped. Oh, no. She didn't know why, but the thought of being alone with Paul for an hour or two was scaring the shit out of her. "You didn't tell me he'd be here," she muttered, not wanting her voice to carry.

Alley shrugged. "I didn't know he was going to be here. John must have asked him to be a lookout too." She felt a small smile creep across her face as she thought about it but in the darkness, her face was unreadable.

"I think I'm gonna die," Cassidy mumbled, wincing at the sound of her only pulsating heart.

Paul leaned against the hard brick wall, watching as the two girls got closer. "She brought Freckles," he commented, a smile creeping onto his face.

John snorted and flicked his cigarette near Cassidy. "Fuckin' wonderful," he said with sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Relax," Alley said when she got within earshot, smacking John's arm. "Don't be a dick- you brought him." She pointed to Paul.

John just shrugged and leaned back against the pole, one hand on top of a black bag resting by his leg.

Cassidy wanted to say something-anything-to John about how much she didn't like him, but she was paralyzed with fear. He probably thinks I only came 'cause I heard HE was coming, she thought nervously, not daring to look over at the boy in question.

Paul grinned widely at the exchange. "'Ello, Alley...Freckles."

Alley grinned. "How goes it, Paul?" She turned to look at Cass, expecting her to say something but instead she was staring into a weird expression on her friend's face. Alley didn't know what to make of it- Cass didn't usually get this way.

Cassidy knew that Alley was looking at her, but she was kinda busy trying to think of something to say. Usually she could just talk and talk and talk endlessly without pause or breaks, but now she couldn't think of a damned thing. "S-So...er...are you guys gonna do this or not?" She winced at the sound of her own voice.

Paul gave her a curious look. "Not even a 'hello'? My, my, Freckles, you DO work fast."

Cassidy narrowed her eyes slightly, turning to look at him. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?" John asked, a smirking pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I think it suits ya... Freckles!"

"Are we though?" Alley questioned, nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot. "I mean, I'm not exactly itichin' to stand here all night."

"Ready when you are," John answered, stepping away from the pole and hefting the bag over his shoulder.

"Where do you want us to go?" Paul asked, automatically assuming that Cassidy was gonna stay with him.

Cass crossed her arms, protesting the new nickname. In truth, she hated her freckles. They were the first thing people saw when they looked at her.

"Over there," John advised, smirking once at Cass's expression. He was pointing at the bushes that ran along the front of the school. "Just stay there and come get us if you see anyone turn in." He leaned close to Cass and Paul. "Think you two can handle that?"

Cass crossed her arms, glaring. "Somehow, I think it might be possible."

Before John could answer, Paul said, "Okay! Let's get a move on then."

"Yeah," John said, turning back to Alley. "Let's go." He turned and started to walk towards the school. Alley grinned and waved at Cass and Paul before turning to catch up with John.

…..

After a last glance towards the retreating backs of Cassidy of Paul, Alley looked straight forward and tried to keep in step with John. He had the black bag slung over his shoulder and he was walking with a set determination. Alley was watching his silently, unsure of what to say at this moment. What could you say when you were on your way to break into your school and deface your principal's office? So instead, she just decided to remain silent; lost in her own thoughts as they walked around to the back of the school.

"Through here," John said finally, pointing towards the window that led into the principal's office. It was about seven feet off the ground and Alley saw no ledges to climb on.

"How in hell are we supposed to get in there?" Alley asked incredulously. She looked around the darkness, trying to see if there was anything they could use to climb into the office. There was nothing but a corroded boulder and few pieces of littered trash. She turned to him, arms crossed and eyes flashing. "Well?"

John shook his head and gave her an annoyed stare. "What the fuck do you think?"

Alley scoffed. "Well gee, Lennon, I thought we would fly through the goddamn window!"

Alley thought she could detect a hint of a smile on his face but it was hard to tell in the darkness. The only shred of light falling over them came from the pale moon which created more dark shadows then it did light. As Alley watched John, she became more aware of him- they way he was. In contrast to his friend Paul, he did things harshly and always fuelled by anger. He dropped the bag off his shoulder roughly and swung it in a circle before finally sailing it through the air and straight into the window. It flew through with a deafening crash, raining class down over them and onto the ground around them. Alley cursed loudly and stared at John, wide-eyed.

"What the hell?" she squeaked. "Isn't the point for us to _not _get caught?"

John shrugged. "No one's in there. Come on, give me a boost."

"What?"

John sighed loudly, rubbing his temples as if trying to stop an on-coming headache. He reached out and grabbed Alley's arm, yanking her forward so she was less than an inch from him. He gestured for her to cup her hands together so he could put his foot on them and jump up and through the window. Alley raised her eye-brows in a way that said, _"Are you serious?" _but John just stood and waited, growing more impatient by the second. Finally, Alley bent over slightly, put her hands together and helped John get through the window. When he was safely in, he peeked back out and held his hand down towards her.

"Come here," he said when she just stared. "Hurry the fuck up!"

"All right! Relax!" Alley snapped, putting her hand into his and letting him pull her in through the window. He didn't wait until she was all the way through so she fell the rest of the way, landing hard half-on top of the desk. "Oh gee, thanks for helping me," she muttered as she stood and brushed herself off.

John ignored her and leaned over to pick up the black bag from atop the broken glass shards. Alley walked over, trying to lean over his shoulder. He had not said what was in the bag yet and by now, Alley was curious. All he had said was that it was part of the plan to "redecorate" the office. What could possibly be in there? Was there a special kit for pranking your principal? Alley, ever impatient, hit John on the arm.

"What the hell is in that thing?" she asked, her voice in a hushed whisper. Despite that fact that John had assured her that they were alone in the building, she still kept her voice low and quiet.

"A few supplies," John replied, pulling open the bag and beginning to lay the objects on the desk in front of him. He said what each object was as he pulled it out. "Spray paint, a hammer, some nails, toilet paper and some eggs."

Alley couldn't help but laugh. "God, John it's like you've done this before." After John looked down and chuckled she added, "Oh my God, have you?"

John smirked. "Let's just say- this principal has some fond memories of when I first started at this school."

"You're fucking insane!"

"Damn straight."

Alley couldn't help but laugh. A few seconds later, John was done laying out everything in front of him and he turned to her, handing her a can of bright red spray paint. She looked down at the fat can in her hand, unsure of what to do with it. When she stared expectantly at John, he just smirked and said, 

"Go to it."

Alley took a breath, popped off the lid of the can and turned towards the nearest wall. Holding it up to the dull gray surface, she pressed the nozzle and began.

…

Paul started following through with his orders at once, walking and looking down at his feet without even making a peep.

"Alley didn't tell me you'd be here," Cassidy said from somewhere next to him. He looked up, finding that she was closer than he expected. "Just so you know."

Paul stopped beside the bushes that John had told them to keep watch in. "Are you trying to say you wouldn't have come if you knew that I was coming?" He cocked his head, a half-smile tugging one corner of his mouth up.

Cassidy opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. WAS that what she was saying? She had no idea. Instead of answering his question, she ducked down behind the bush, forgetting that she was wearing a skirt.

Paul knelt beside her, in perfect position for him to peer out of the bushes in case anybody came. "Well…thanks."

"For what?"

"For basically just saying that you don't like me." He was kidding, of course, but he knew that if she agreed with this, he would be beyond disappointed. He didn't really know her that long, though he knew that he had seen her around school. She was just so…quirky, and cute with those little freckles dotting every inch of skin on her body (or so he assumed).

"I don't NOT like you. I just don't like you." LIES! BLASHEMY! See through me, Paul, she begged in her head. Couldn't he see that every time he happened to glance at her, her cheeks lit on fire?

"Such a difference."

Cass crossed her arms tightly over her body, smoothing her skirt stiffly. "It is, actually."

Paul sighed, plopping himself down on his arse and leaning against the bushes. "You hardly even know me, how can you…I dunno…feel that way?"

She grinned sneakily, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. "If I tell you something, will you PROMISE not to tell?"

Paul knew that if John was here, he would have shrugged and rolled his eyes just because he didn't want the older boy to think he was all…childish still. But as John was in the tall building that stood before them right now, he leaned in, too, wanting to hear. "Promise."

Cassidy nodded seriously. "I…can…read…minds."

Paul stared at her for a second, then snorted really loud, giggling into his hands. "Oh, please Cass. We're not in the third grade anymore!"

She ignored the way her heart skipped a little bit when he used her pet name, instead widening her eyes and nodding her head feverously. "No, it's true, I can! Okay, well, maybe I don't EXACTLY read minds, but I can read people REALLY easily." She wiped a stray curl out of her eyes quickly. "And…well…it's a skill sorta necessary for being friends with Alley."

Paul chuckled at her enthusiasm, looking away for a moment and staring straight in front of him. "What's her problem anyway? Alley's?"

Cassidy stared out the same way, not saying anything. She could tell him millions of things right then, but God knew she wouldn't. If the situation was reversed, would Alley tell John? She would like to believe she wouldn't, and so she kept her silence. Finally, after her brain had worked out a plausible answer, she said, "Pride."

"Pride?"

"Yeah…pride."

And then they didn't say anything for a few minutes, just staring out at the night sky. Paul was wondering what exactly Alley was so damn proud of. Cassidy was wondering if she could put a name on the way she was feeling right now.

"No one stands up to John, ya know," Paul told her, breaking the silence.

"I did."

"Don't reckon he liked that too much."

"Me either."

"I don't recommend you do it in the future."

Cassidy looked at him, the moon hitting his features perfectly. She suddenly felt the strange urge to reach out and touch one of those ample, pale cheeks. She shook her head, half saying no to him, half trying to rid herself of these stupid thoughts. "Just to spite you, I will."

In his mind's eye, Paul was picturing John's palm swinging across his body, hitting Cassidy smack in the face. He winced at the thought. "Don't."

"I'm gonna."

"Please, don't." Now Paul was staring back, looking her right in the eye. She felt her heart stammer, and her gaze faltered, dropping to the ground.

Cassidy searched for something to say, but the only thing she could think of was a totally different subject, one they had only covered briefly earlier. "So, I'm surprised you're not the least bit curious as to how I read you."

He blinked once, then twice, the rested his palm in the dirt in between them and leaned towards her on it, looking up at her through those pretty, hazel eyes. "Aye, I am."

Paul was honestly curious as to why Cassidy looked like she was about to faint. Behind her freckles, her skin kept changing from pale white, to red, to white again. Her breathing was short and quick, and she kept reaching her hands up to her curls and wrapping them around her fingers. "Freckles?" he asked unsurely, reaching out and pressing his non-dirtied palm against her forearm.

"I think you're an overly-horny raging narcissistic egomaniac with an odd desire to be like John Lennon and an even odder desire to be his best mate while he is clearly using you to learn music which you KNOW yet are still persistent and I also believe you can be quite the cacafuego and you also have a blatant disrespect for women in general." She sucked in a deep breath, really needing it after that. "But you're not THAT bad of a guy."

Paul blinked at her, trying to process this. "All that after one day?"

Cassidy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from beaming. "And it helps that you're adorable." Shit. Did she really just say that? She MEANT to say something more like 'and it helps that you're not ugly' or 'and it helps that you're kinda cute'. But noooooo! God forbid something happened CASSIDY'S way for once.

Paul grinned, understanding THAT one. "You think I'm adorable." He couldn't help it; he was totally leaning. And after being called adorable, it was kinda hard not to take that boost to his ego.

"Yes," Cass said, her voice coming out in a much more feeble tone than intended whisper. "But I also think-"

But she didn't have time to tell him what else she thought, for suddenly his lips met hers. His entire body weight was resting on one palm, but he desperately wanted to get closer. Cassidy, however, was a girl of principles.

She pushed him off of her, ignoring the whine of protest that went off in her head, and flew to her feet. "What the FUCK do you think you're doing?" she hissed, straightening herself out.

"Well I WAS kissing this pretty girl…"

Cass chose to ignore the compliment, her mouth setting a stern line. "Did you not even LISTEN to what I just said about you?"

Paul scratched under his eye absentmindedly, shrugging a bit. "Well, to be honest luv, I didn't understand a word of that. They invented these new things called periods, you see..."

Cassidy drew herself up to her full height—which was actually quite impressive—and glared down at him. "I hardly even KNOW you! And you hardly even know ME! And I don't know WHAT kinda girl you think I am, but I have a newsflash for you, bud: I'm not the kind that makes out with boys she hardly knows behind the FUCKING BUSHES!" Her voice rose before she could stop it, and her hands came up to wrap in her hair.

Paul got to his feet warily. "Listen, Freckles, it was just a kiss."

My first, she said inside her head. But out loud, she sneered, "Don't call me that." And she turned around with that, striding away furiously.

Paul looked at the sky, cursing God for making him so infatuated with a bird that was clearly out of her mind. "Cass—CASSIDY!" He started to jog after her, but after she heard his footsteps, she took off at a run in the other direction, wiping a spare tear from her eye. She was SO stupid sometimes, but now that everything was all said and done, it couldn't be taken back.

Their look-out positions were completely forgotten.

…

Alley laughed triumphantly as she threw down her fourth - and now empty - can of spray paint. While John was busying throwing eggs at random things and draping toilet paper everywhere, Alley had been going crazy with the spray paint against each of the walls, writing obscene words and drawing random pictures. But now she had used up all four cans of paint and was starting to get bored. With a curious smile on her face, she took the hammer and nails off the desk.

"What are these for?" she asked John. He turned away from the bookshelf which was now covered in broken eggs and grinned.

"The final touch," he explained. He walked over to the photocopy machine and started to unzip his pants. Alley snorted in a mix of horror and disgust.

"What the fuck are you planning to do?" She screeched, staring at him with her eyes wild. "You gonna fuck the copy machine?"

John scoffed and lifted the lid of the copy machine. He smirked at her and then let his pants drop, jumping up and sitting on top of the machine. He punched in the number of copies to make-an even hundred- and sat there as the machine hummed and glowed, taking pictures of his ass. He sat there the whole time, a big grin on his face. Alley couldn't help but laugh at him. As the copies flew out of the machine, Alley took them and began nailing them all over the walls.

"This is insane," she said with a laugh, as she nailed one picture on the oak wood door. "You do this often?"

"Not really," John replied, jumping off the machine as it spit out it's last copy. Alley could hear him buckle his pants back up and for a second, had to fight the urge to turn around.

"Well here," she said when he came up next to her. She handed him the hammer and nails and moved to sit on the desk. "You finish them!"

John chuckled and began nailing the remaining copies on the wall. Alley watched him with a strange expression on her face and an even stranger feeling swirling around in her stomach like rabid butterflies. Cassidy had hinted toward Alley having feelings for John to which she vehemently protested. But- now she wasn't so sure. There was just something about him that struck her in a weird way as she watched him gleefully deface the principal's office. It wasn't quite attraction- Alley just wasn't sure what it was. Before she could think about it any further, she heard a noise that made her jump. It sounded like a door closing follow by…. footsteps?

"John!" she whispered harshly, jumping off the desk to stand next to him. She physically turned him around when he didn't answer the first time.

"What?" he snapped, a bit irritated from being interrupted. But his expression turned into one that said _"Oh shit!"_ when he heard the same noise Alley did. "Fuck!" he said, banging his fist on the wall. "We gotta go, now!" He grabbed Alley's hand and pulled her towards the window. But before they made it, John's shirt got caught on one of the filing cabinets and twisted itself around the small piece of metal sticking out.

"Oh fuck!" he swore, desperately pulling at his shirt. It was stuck pretty good and no amount of pulling was helping.

Alley grabbed onto his shirt too and pulled with him, trying to free him. But the damn thing wasn't coming loose and the sound of footsteps were getting closer with each passing second. Finally John stopped pulling at his shirt and gave Alley a shove towards the window.

"Go!" he said harshly. "Get out of here!"

Alley shook her head. "No! We both gotta get out of here!" She continued trying to pull him free but again, he pushed her away. He was getting angrier the more she tried to help him.

"Get the fuck out of here!" he snapped. "You don't have to get caught!" But he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. Alley was as stubborn as a mule.

"No! I'm not going anywhere!" Again, she tried pulling him free and again he growled in anger. But just as he was about to push her away again, the door swung open and the light opened.

Alley and John were struck dumb, staring at the doorway- right into the eyes of Mr. Burns, the school principal. Silence covered the room like a blanket and the tension between the three of them was so thick, not even a regular kitchen knife could cut through it. As the principal surveyed his office, his eyes bulged and his face turned a few shades darker than a ripe tomato. When his gaze finally landed on Alley and John, he looked like he was about to explode. He raised one thick finger and pointed it at them.

"You two," he growled through clenched teeth. "Are in deep trouble."

**Addie AN: Well... now that was a pretty long fucking chapter. I thought it was awesome.**

**Catie AN: GEORGE IS IN NOW! Too bad he likes Cassidy's bitch of a sister. :^) Oh, Georgie. What are we gonna do with you? (*thinks about what she would do with George if she ever met him when he was young…then laughs evilly*)**

**Addie AN: YAY GEORGE! Although, I'm happy cause John has always been in it! Oh God, now you got me thinking about what I would do with young John and... WHOA! I'm back...**

**Catie AN: I could start thinking about Paul now, but I won't. Pshhh…been there done that. Oh, the benefits of being married to a 20 year old Paul McCartney.**

**Addie AN: Being married to a 22 year old John is waaaaaay better.**

**Catie AN: Just keep tellin' yourself that, crazy. Now that Addie is done going on about her strange delusions, I wanna leave you all with this story: **

**Once upon a time, a girl woke up at ten o'clock in the morning, chipper and ready to start the day as usual. This girl had a volleyball fundraising meeting at noon that day, so she got ready and hitched a ride over to her high school. Once there, she proceeded to sit in the gym while some man talked to her and her teammates about selling things. He dismissed them, and this girl was quite happy to go home. However, it appeared that someone from her freshman team had sworn during said meeting, so their coach told them they would be running in practice later that day. When the team got to practice, they were all slightly dreading the running, but didn't think it would be bad seeing as they ran all the time during practice. They were wrong. Their coach made them run sprints for half an hour with zero mercy. The moral of this story? REVIEW CAUSE MY FEET HURT!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Catie AN: Yes guys, you don't need to tell us. We BOTH suck hairy old man balls. It's unfortunate, but very true. It's been, what? Like, TEN KATRILLION BILLION YEARS since the last update? I mean, SERIOUSLY! But I think I have a PRETTY justifiable excuse...I STARTED HIGH SCHOOL!**

**Addie AN: Yeah... and pssh... my excuse is... I was... busy... yeah... busy... **

**Catie AN: AND I'M A FRESHMAN! *ducks from the pennies being thrown at her head* And besides the MASSIVE shock of high school, I ALSO have volleyball, which is two or more hours every single day except Sundays...needless to say, my favorite day of the week is quickly becoming Sunday. :^) GEORGE!**

**Addie AN: Haha lol! Jeez, I feel really old now because I'm out of school and I'm starting my 3rd year of college this year which is pretty much YIPES! I know, I know... very scary! And guess what? I'm excited cause I bought this wicked Beatles magazine thing- yup, it doesn't take alot to get me happy! And... 8-D JOHN!**

**Catie AN: Shut up, Addie, no one cares about you. HERE'S CHAPTER FOUR!**

**ALLEY AND JOHN SUSPENSION DAY 1:**

It was the first day of the suspension and Alley was absolutely bored out of her mind. Or maybe- half bored and half pissed off was more like it. She, along side John, was sentenced to working at the school for the entire week. They had to work in the basement of the school, sorting out all of the old files and other boring shit like that. Either way, Alley wasn't happy to do it and judging on the look on John's face the night before, he wasn't either. As Royce drove her towards the school, she went over the events of last night in her head.

It was a tense situation as Alley and John sat in the principal's office, waiting for Royce and John's Aunt Mimi to show up to take them home. More than a few times, both of them almost burst into laughter as Mr. Burns walked around his office, trying to clean up the mess that Alley and John has caused. When he half-slipped on a puddle of egg yolk and had one of John's photocopies fly down onto his face, either of them could hold it in. Both Alley and John burst into laughter, causing Mr. Burns face to turn beet red. Before he could make his way towards them to probably hit them or something, both Royce and Aunt Mimi walked in at the same time. John and Alley had shared a look and abruptly stopped their laughter.

To make a long story short, Mr. Burns belittled them in front of their respective guardians- flat out saying that they were bad influences and that they should not be allowed to be near each other. For another ten minutes he tore into them, saying almost everything they had done in the past, trying to make it worse. Finally, he decided that their punishment would be a one week suspension and working their days in the school basement. Without another word, they left the school and Alley made eye contact with John one last time as she was getting into her car. He smirked at her and she grinned back. The rest of the night was pretty much uneventful- Royce tore into her as soon as they arrived home and it ended up with her being a bloody heap on the living room floor. Again.

She was brought back to reality with a sharp slap to the side of the head. She turned her head to glower at Royce. His face was red with anger. "Are you listening to me?" he demanded angrily, shoving her.

"Yes, Royce," Alley said tiredly, "I'm listening." She wasn't really. If Royce had asked her to repeat what he had just said to her, she wouldn't be able to do it. And she didn't really care, either.

Thankfully, they pulled up in front of the school before Royce could continue with his threats. Alley began to get out when he stopped the car but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back harshly. As he whispered in her ear, she could smell the alcohol on his breath and had to hold back the urge to gag.

"You be sure to do what you're told," Royce warned, squeezing her arm until she was sure there would be a bruise there the next day. She didn't cry out like he expected her too which only made his features darken in anger. "Do you understand, girl?" he said, shaking her. "One thing you do wrong and you'll be paying for it for the rest of your life."

Alley rolled her eyes but nodded. "Okay, Royce." When he shook her roughly again and squeezed her arm harder she added, "Royce, I promise. Just- let me go."

Royce glared at her and held onto her for a few more seconds before letting her go. She exited the car quickly and made her way inside. Mr. Burns was standing erect in the middle of the hallway foyer, waiting for Alley to show up. John, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips. She felt the corners of her lips tugging into a smile as she watched him.

"Let's go," Mr. Burns said turning around abruptly, forcing Alley and John to follow. As they walked behind the principal, they avoided looking at each other. If they did, they would probably burst out laughing.

As they walked down the dank basement stairs, John started to make faces behind Mr. Burns' back and Alley snorted a little too loudly. Thankfully the principal didn't notice and continued walking until they reached a heavy metal door. Mr. Burns took out a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the five locks. He heaved the metal door open and motioned for John and Alley to walk inside. When they did, he sternly said,

"You two stay in here all day. At four o' clock you can leave. You will be watched, so don't get any smart ideas."

And with that, Mr, Burns left, shutting the metal door and looking them in the room. Alley groaned and leaned against one of the filing cabinets. They were wall to wall and stretched across the entire room. Drawers were open, files spilling out onto the floor and in other parts files were piled up, dust heavily caked on them. Groaning for a second time, kicked at a pile of folder, causing them to fall over and release a cloud of dust into the sky. John chuckled, watching her. Up until then, he had been intently studying the window at the back of the room.

"What?" Alley asked, slightly annoyed. She didn't like people laughing at her, no matter who they were.

"Come on," he said in reply, grabbing her hand and dragging her towards the window. They stopped underneath it. He nodded his head towards the window. Alley felt her eyes bug out, possibly straight out of her head.

"Are you crazy?"

"Yes," John said seriously.

Alley chuckled and swatted his arm. "Shut-up, will you! I mean, are you crazy? How the hell are we going to pull this off?" John raised an eye-brow and leaned towards her. "Scared?" he breathed into her ear. She felt a shiver throughout her entire body but she ignored it.

"No!" she said, forcefully, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm not fucking scared. Just tell me how the hell we are going to pull this off."

"Well," John said, looking up at the window. His eyes were shining with mischief and Alley could almost see the wheels in his mind spinning. "That window is open. I should now. Burns fucking locked me down here once."

"What? Are you serious?"

John smirked, remembering. "Yeah. I got caught in the janitor's closet with a girl and he locked me down here." He nodded to window and chuckled to himself. "I snuck out the window for the whole day and came back when school was done."

Alley felt her smile grow as she caught on. "I like it," she said. "As long as Burns doesn't come to check on us. Then we're pretty much fucked. Again."

John dismissed that with a wave of his hand. He climbed up onto the ledge in front of the window, kicked it open and rolled out. He poked his head back in and offered out his hand towards her. Alley stood there, contemplating if she should go or not. Far be it from her to decline an invitation for trouble but there was always that nagging voice of worry in the back of her mind. She remembered Royce's warning,

"_One thing you do wrong and you'll be paying for it for the rest of your life."_

Thinking about it made an unpleasant shiver run up and down her spine but she ignored it. When there was trouble to be made and John…. Alley was like a moth to a flame. Feeling a smile forming on her face, she put her hand in John's and let him pull her up and out of the window. As they were walking away from the school, she asked,

"So we just show up here in the morning and come back when it's time for us to leave?"

John nodded. "There ain't anymore to it."

"All right," Alley agreed and silently walked beside him, following him off the school grounds.

The plan, as simple as it was, wouldn't turn out as good. They were supposed to show up in the morning and again in the afternoon and they did- for the first few days. But being the way they were, they blew it off eventually. But neither Alley nor John cared- they were busy having too much fun.

…

**ALLEY AND JOHN SUSPENION DAY 3:**

"Aw, Georgie Boy, there's always next time."

George regarded his friend Paul with stony eyes, not wanting him to see how badly Cecilia Farrell had hurt him. "Right. Next time."

Paul's mouth twitched sympathetically, and he clapped a hand on his mate's shoulder. "There are other fish in the sea."

George leaned back into the grass on the McCartney's front yard, sighing heavily, and clasped his hands over his chest. "Well," he mused aloud, "her sister is a pretty bird."

Paul winced at this. Ouch. "Pretty insane…" he muttered under his breath.

George looked up at him, frowning. "What happened? You know her or something?"

"I…" Paul considered telling him the truth about what happened the night Alley and John got suspended, but he didn't feel like explaining all the…feelings. It just wasn't worth it. "No, not really. Do YOU?"

George smiled. Hell yes he knew Cassidy! "She answers the door," he said simply, though that was an understatement. She also sat on her front stoop with him, talking him through his rejection from Cecilia. He honestly didn't know why he didn't just forget that whole Cecilia situation YEARS ago. There was just something that made him keep coming back.

"Ahhh…" Paul's thoughts were already drifting to faraway places. How soft her skin had felt under his palm…how her lips had tasted…the way she giggled instead of laughing at everything…her silken, curly hair…

"Paul?" George asked again when he didn't answer the first time. Paul seemed to snap out of a trance of some sort, then looked at George with a slow grin creeping onto his face. A grin that could only mean trouble.

"I want her back," he announced, scrambling to his feet.

George frowned. "When did you ever have her?" Shit. This ALWAYS happened to him. The second he started liking a girl, she was deemed untouchable…or she rejected him going on twenty-six times.

Paul looked back at him, slowly deliberating his answer. He never REALLY had her, did he? She probably hated him now anyways, and it wasn't gonna matter. But still. He had already made it his mission; he was going to win her back, one way or another.

"I didn't…but I will."

…..

Alley laughed as she followed John through his aunt's small house, up the narrow stairs and into his small room. His aunt wasn't home but they still had to make sure no one saw them and so they crept up the stairs, being silent as two mice. They both were supposed to be "working" during their suspension but either of them gave two shits. John led the way into his room and immediately plopped onto his unmade bed. Alley looked around, taking in the small room. It was a tiny bit smaller than hers- and hers was nothing special. He had his bed, a dresser and then a small desk. Leaning against the window was his guitar. Unsure of what to, she sat on the edge of the bed. Before the silence became awkward, she commented on the small record player with a pile of records next to it. She got up to kneel in front of it and thumbed threw the records. John watched her silently.

"Buddy Holly," Alley said with an appreciative nod. She turned to John, holding the record in her hand. "Can we listen to it?"

John shrugged. "Go ahead."

Alley squealed happily and pulled the record out of the case, slowly laying it down on top of the player. She carefully took the needle and placed it over the record. A few seconds later, the song was flowing through the room and Alley was bobbing her head happily to the music. She had had her own record player and set of records but one night during a fit of anger, smashed the player and threw the records out of the window. She saved what she could and hid them under her bed in a box, sometimes taking the records to Cass' house to play them.

"_Well that'll be the day when you say good-bye. Yes, that'll be the day when you make me cry. You say you're gonna leave, you know it's a lie. Cause that'll be the day when I die."_

Alley turned back to John, a smile on her lips. Music was one of the few ways that you could get her to smile fully and to actually look happy as opposed to her normal stone-faced look. Softly humming along, she sat on the bed, choosing to lay back. By accident, she half-landed on John as she leaned back and when he didn't move, she remained there. She chuckled to herself as thought of what a sight they were right now. John was lying with his legs up against the wall and she was laying on her back with her head resting on his stomach.

"I love this music," she said, still happily humming along. The song finished and another one started. She loved the voice of Buddy Holly and she also loved the way he looked. Just a few days before, she used up her saved money to buy a pair of the same glasses. A few people told her they were too big for her small face but she ignored them. She wasn't about to start caring about what people thought of her.

"Me too," John agreed after a while. "He's one of the greatest."

Alley nodded. "Him and- Elvis too!"

"Of course."

Alley smiled again, chuckling happily to herself. She loved to talk about music- especially her favourite artists like Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens and Elvis Presley. Music was like an escape for her and she loved getting lost in it. To Alley, there was nothing better than putting rock and roll music to its full volume, closing her eyes and just listening to it. To find someone who felt the same way was good for her and made her feel that she wasn't alone in her thinking or in her feelings. And John didn't just listen to music, he and Paul played it and wrote songs. He told her that he wanted to be a famous musician one day and Alley thought that it had a good chance of happening.

"I wish I was Elvis," John blurted out into the silence. He wasn't sure why he had said it; it just came out. He shrugged though and continued with his thoughts. Alley seemed to be listening intently. "He's really gear."

"Shit, yeah" Alley agreed. "He is definitely sexy!"

John chuckled. "Well- that wasn't quite what I meant…."

"What?" Alley asked, chuckling herself. She looked up at John, seeing upside down from the position she was in. He had a half-smirk on his face. "You don't want to be sexy?"

"I already am."

_Cocky_, Alley thought but couldn't help but laugh. She sighed as the record finished and left them in complete silence. After a few seconds of listening to each other's slow breathing, Alley said,

"Why would you want to be Elvis?"

"Cause," John said with a shrug. "He's cool. He's got the hair and the voice. He's rock and roll."

Alley giggled, thinking of the time she watched _Jailhouse Rock _with Cass. Throughout the whole movie, she was moaning and groaning over how sexy and amazing he was. Cass had smacked her a few times to get her to shut up after she had begun to get annoying. Not she bothered anyone- every girl in the audience was practically screaming and drooling throughout the entire movie. She could see why John admired him.

"You don't need to be Elvis," she said. "You're John Lennon."

John rolled his eyes and snorted. "Oh gee, like that's anything special."

"It is!" Alley insisted. When John snorted again, she spun around and propped herself up on her elbows, staring into his eyes. "Listen," she said with forceful determination. "Someday, the whole world is going to know the name John Lennon."

"Pity the world," John said but he was smiling.

"Oh, shut-up!"

For a few silent moments, they stayed that way, looking into each other's eyes. But then without any warning, John pushed himself forward and pressed his lips against hers; a soft kiss that soon turned into a passion-filled explosion. They remained that way for a few seconds, lost in their kiss. When they finally pulled apart, Alley was nearly breathless and John looked pleased. He leaned back against the headboard, a smile on his lips. After a while, Alley smiled too.

"What was that for?" she asked, smiling on the inside but her insides raging with feelings she didn't know or could even begin to understand.

John shrugged non-chalantly, his smile still remaining. "Just because."

Alley didn't say anything and after a while, returned to her position of lying with her head on John's stomach. Quietly they lay there, both staring up at the ceiling, lost in their own thoughts. They both were thinking about the kiss they just had shared and their own confusing feelings swirling in their stomachs. It was a nice moment; two people enjoying each other's company without having to say anything. It was a beautiful moment and they held onto it as long as they could.

….

**ALLEY AND JOHN SUSPENION DAY 4:**

Cassidy grabbed her lunch tray, then walked into the cafeteria. She automatically looked at the table where she usually met Alley, but there was no familiar face waiting there; both of their usual seats were filled with twiggish-looking girls.

She inhaled deeply, because for the first time since she started high school, she had no one to sit with. It was a scary thought; being on her own. She was so much more susceptible to things unknown. She didn't even want to THINK of how bad Marilyn Bent and her minions would make fun of her if they caught her eating alone.

Then, God stepped in.

"Hey! Cassidy!"

Cass turned quickly to find the source of the voice, and her heart sank once she realized who was calling her. She weighed her options. She could either put her lunch down and then completely walk out of here, or she could go over to where Paul was sitting and join him. Either way, she was fucked.

She sighed, choosing the latter, slid onto the bench that was connected to the table. She was still royally pissed at Paul. Pissed beyond belief. But what other choice did she have?

"'Ello, Cass," Paul greeted softly, looking up at her with a glimmer in his eyes. Her stomach suddenly twisted nervously, and she knew the truth; as much as she hated that Paul had kissed her like that, she wasn't angry at all. On the contrary, she was crushing very hard on this boy. But he REALLY couldn't know that.

Cassidy didn't answer him, instead meeting his gentle gaze with a glare of her own. But she didn't have to look at him for long before two trays slid in on either side of her, and she found herself surrounded by boys.

"Ah, if it isn't Freckles in the flesh."

Cassidy looked to her left at the boy who had just spoken to her. He had blonde hair styled much like Paul's, with big blue eyes and thin, red lips. He seemed to be a little bit taller than Paul, but it was hard to tell from her vantage point. He sat next to her, then grinned across the table at Paul.

"We've heard so much," the other boy said, sitting down on her other side. "Actually, it's ALL we've been hearing." This one was shorter, a bit stockier. He had really light brown eyes, brown hair, and a little button nose. Neither of the boys introduced themselves.

"Sod off…" Paul muttered under his breath, blushing lightly and looking down at the table.

"Aw, no need to be ashamed there, Paulie," Blondie said to him. "I'm sure Freckles doesn't mind that you're completely obsessed with her."

It was now Cassidy's turn to redden. She looked over at Paul, who looked as though he would rather melt into the floor and escape the situation. "It's a bit creepy, yeah?"

Brown Eyes chuckled deeply. "Ya got that one right, Frecks."

Cassidy turned to him, completely indignant. "I have a name."

"Aye, I reckon ya do."

Cassidy set her jaw, then looked away from the boy. She decided that she didn't like him. She looked down at her lunch while the boys talked around her, and was suddenly not very hungry. She picked up her apple, took a bite, and then munched on that for a while. As she was still trying to tune the guys out, she picked up her spoon, breathed on it, and then stuck it on her nose. She crossed her eyes, trying to look down at it, moving her head lightly from side to side and watching it sway.

It was only when it dropped, clattering onto the table, that she realized the table was silent, all three boys staring at her. "What?" she asked, looking at Blondie.

He shook his head slowly, as though not knowing what to say. "Nothin'."

The bench groaned as the two boys on either side of her stood up. "We better be goin'. Ivan said he wanted a word. Catch ya later, Macca?" He waited for Paul to nod, then playfully punched Cassidy on the shoulder. "Stay away from the spoons, Freckles."

Brown Eyes nodded, then walked away with his friend, both looking back a few times and muttering to each other as they went.

"What was that all about?" Cassidy asked, looking back at Paul and surprised to see that he wasn't watching his friends like she was, but instead looking at her.

"Dunno," he said, swirling his fork around his mashed potatoes but not taking a bite.

"So…you talk about me all the time?" She phrased this as a question, just in case it wasn't true and the other two boys were just messing with Paul.

"Suppose."

"And why is that?"

One corner of his mouth turned up so that he was half smiling. "Why do you think?"

"Hey, now." Cassidy pointed an accusing finger at him. "You can't answer a question with another question. That's against the rules."

"Whose rules?"

"My rules."

Paul chuckled, nodding slowly. "Hmmm…fine then. I talk about you all the time because…" He tapped one of his long fingers against his chin slowly, thinking hard. "Probably because I'm really sorry that I kissed you and I just want to take it back and start from the beginning."

This was a whole lot to take in for Cass. She blinked a couple times, then nodded slowly. "Okay…yeah, let's start from the beginning."

Paul grinned goofily, then held out his hand. "Hi, I'm James Paul McCartney. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Cassidy Elizabeth Farrell. Likewise."

….

Alley groaned as she walked up the sidewalk to Cassidy's door. She was in major pain and she couldn't bear to take another step. But she had to get to Cass, to tell her what happened, and so she pressed on. When she finally reached the door, she leaned against the frame and used her last ounce of energy to ring the doorbell.

Cassidy was reading-like always-when she heard the bell ring. She grudgingly picked herself up, then walked out of her room, down the stairs, and pulled open the front door with a scowl. When she saw who it was-and the state that she was in-her expression immediately softened, and she opened the door all the way. "Alley! What...what...what happened?"

"What the fuck do you think?" Alley managed to spit out, her anger giving her enough energy to stumble through the door. She nearly fell once and had to hold onto the stair banister to keep upright. She looked at Cass and said in an almost pleading voice, "Just help me get upstairs. I'll tell you what happened."

Cassidy nodded quickly, wrapping her arm around her best friend's waist and helping her up the stairs. Once they were in her room, Cass eased the door shut and turned to look at Alley.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Alley moved over to the bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard. "Royce," she said, groaning as she moved. This was one of the worst times when Royce got really angry.

Cassidy walked over to the bed, sitting crosslegged on the end and watching her friend's painful movements. "He...he found out about the suspension, didn't he?"

"He already knew," Alley explained. "Principal called him that night…he nearly killed me." She scoffed and tried shifting onto her side but it hurt too much so she just remained in the same position. "Me and John were supposed to be working during the suspension... but we've been- not going. Royce found out that."

Cassidy chose to look past some parts of what she just said, knowing that upsetting Alley now would not be good. "What'd he do to you?"

Alley took a breath before beginning. "John was walking me home. After he left me at the door, I went inside and Royce was waiting for me." She couldn't help but keep the grimace off her face as she ran over the events in her mind. "Turns out the school called," Alley said, anger flaring. "Saying that I never showed up to our work. You know, some community service shit."

Cassidy's eyes closed, a sudden wave of horror washing over her. What if SHE had to live everyday with Royce the Royally Fucked-Up? "Uh huh..." she said, if only to keep the story moving. No matter what, all the tales Alley told had the same gruesome, nasty ending.

"So," Alley continued, her normal stoney expression slipping back on her face. "He went crazy. He started hitting me and he threw me to the ground and kicked me. But-" She paused for a few seconds and then said, "John came through the half open door. He forgot to tell me something and he ran in when he heard the noise."

John had saved her. That was the only thought running through Cassidy's after Alley finished. She swallowed roughly, her face probably showing more emotion than her friend's was. "And...John saved you, right? He's the reason you're okay?" She looked at Alley again. 'Okay' was kind of a stretch, but she knew that she would be fine.

Solemly, Alley shook her head. "No... he tried."

This stopped Cassidy's thoughts dead. "He-wait, where is he then?"

"Gone," Alley said, shaking her head sadly. "He ran in and he tackled Royce and started to just... pound him. He knocked him out cold so I- I told John to go home." She scoffed, thinking how stupid she was. She should have known. "I convinced him Royce would be out for a while so- he went home. But... I was wrong..."

Cassidy scooted closer to Alley, frowning. "You mean he did something else when John left?" She stared into her friend's electric green eyes, trying to will out some sort of emotion at all.

"Understatement," Alley muttered, the events playing like a movie in her mind as she explained them. Cass was staring at her and she knew she expected her to break down and cry or something. But she wouldn't. "I was trying to get upstairs," Alley continued with a grimace. "Royce was passed out in front of them so I had to step over him. I was almost away from him but he came to and he grabbed me."

Alley paused for a moment, trying in vain to shift herself but failing. She couldn't move without pain shooting through her entire body. She wasn't sure if she should say the rest- it was bad enough John found out. She didn't want Cassidy getting angry and going crazy.

Cassidy was picturing it. In her mind, everything was happening slowly and in crystal clear precision. As Alley described it, Cass felt a lump rise her her throat, something behind her eyes tightening. "H-He grabbed you?" she breathed, wanting to know the whole story.

Alley nodded. "He grabbed my ankle and pulled me backwards. I- I landed on our glass coffee table and I fell right through it. That's why I have these." She pointed to the many little cuts all over her arms, a few on her neck. Taking another few breaths, she finally was able to sit herself up a bit more. "I wasn't hurt that bad, I was able to get up and I made a run for the front door but- he was there and he grabbed me again and threw me to the floor. And then..." Slowly, she was able to get herself off the bed and into a standing position. "Now, just don't freak out..." she said, slowly lifting the back of her shirt. On her back were about a dozen angry, bleeding, criss-crossed lines. She turned and sat back against the bed. "Then he left me there. After- God, I don't know how long- I came here." She shrugged, forcing any tears that threatened to fall back. She was not going to cry.

At the sight on of the blood-seeping red marks on Alley's back, Cassidy's hand raised to her mouth, her chin quivering. This was not her situation to cry about, she reminded herself. But then she thought of her best friend, strong, beautiful, hilariously funny, being beaten half-way to death every night by her drunken step-father. Tears started seeping from the corners of her eyes, and she didn't quite know what to say. "Oh, Alley..." She stood up, crossing the room slowly, and gingerly put her arms around her friend's. Her tears were coming harder now. "I'm so sorry."

Alley didn't usually accept pity but deep down she needed the hug and she welcomed it, letting Cassidy put her arms around her. "It's okay, Cass," she said. "You don't need to cry. It's over now."

This just made Cassidy cry even harder. "No, when will you realize? It's really, really, REALLY not okay."

"I know!" Alley half-screamed, tearing herself away from Cassidy. She was sitting on the bed with her back to her. Her eyes were blazing. "I know, it's not okay! I hate it, I absolutely HATE it. And I wish I could have a different life! But I don't and I have to accept that! I stopped wishing years ago! This life, this is all I fucking have! And I've learned to deal with it!"

Cassidy took a step back, tears still rolling down her face. That wasn't exactly the sort of emotion she was asking for. "You know," Cass said softly, her current state not allowing for her tone to be any louder, "we're all scared. Every single one of us." She tried to swallow past that lump her throat. "You don't always have to be so strong."

"It's all I have going for me," Alley said in an even tone, once again her face a mask of no emotion. "If I let myself go, I'll never make it back." She sounded so hollow, so empty but to her, these words rang true. She was forced to be tough and strong and hard living with Royce and she wasn't sure she could stop, even if she wanted to. She built a comfortable wall around herself and she wasn't ready for it to come down yet.

Cass wiped away her tears, taking a deep breath and drawing herself up to her fullest height. "You think that's all you got? Well then, you need to fucking open your eyes." She stared at Alley's back, not even needing to see her to know that her friend's face was once again a stoney mask of nothing. A person couldn't live with that. Just bottling it all up? No, that didn't work. One day, she was going to explode.

Alley shrugged. "Maybe not all I've got. But it's something I need." She took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, letting it calm herself. She used to cry herself to sleep every night when she was younger until one day she forced herself to stop. She forced herself to never show any emotion, never cry, never appear as weak. Because if you were strong, no one could ever really hurt you, could they? No. So she wouldn't allow herself to. In the end, it could only benefit her. "Just let it go, Cass- there's no point in going over what already happen. It won't change anything." She shook her head and muttered under her breath, "Maybe one day he'll kill me and I won't need to worry."

Cassidy totally heard that. But she also knew that she wasn't going to win this round. Once Alley set her mind against something, there was absolutely no changing it. "I wish you could see what I see," she muttered, once against sitting next to her.

"I don't need to see it," Alley whispered, looking over at her friend. Cass cared for her and she was worried, she knew that but she was determined not to break.

"One day you will," Cassidy said, though she had no confidence in this. If Alley didn't want to do something, it was practically garunteed that it would not be done.

Alley nodded. "Maybe." She sighed and then turned to Cass again, slightly embarrassed to ask for help. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Just- help me get cleaned up," she said tiredly and then added, "Please."

Cassidy nodded. "Duh." Then she stood up, halfway out the door before she amended, "But I hope you know you're staying the night. I'm not gonna let you go back to that hell hole."

Alley smiled ever so slightly. "Thank you."

"What are best friends for?"

….

**ALLEY AND JOHN SUSPENSION DAY 5:**

Alley took a deep breath before knocking on the front door of John's house. She had been standing there for at least five minutes, contemplating whether if she should knock or not. It had been a full day since John had witnessed Royce hitting her. She spent the night with Cassidy- she didn't have a choice but she also didn't mind- and then while Cass was at school, she hid out in her own house. During the day, Royce was at work- he had appearance to keep up and her mother was usually too out of it to notice. Just before Royce arrived home from his job, Alley decided to walk over to John's house. She was afraid she had scared him off after what he had witnessed the night before. Usually, they spent their days of suspension together but he didn't show up outside of her house today.

After she finally knocked, she stood on the front porch, shifting her weight from foot to foot, hoping someone would finally answer the door. Beginning to feel discouraged, Alley started to walk away from the house until the sound of the door creaking opening slightly made her turn around. John was peering out from the door, the sunlight causing him to squint. Alley didn't know whether to move forward or not so she just awkwardly stood in the same spot.

"Just- hurry up and get in," John said, a little harshly. Alley didn't say anything as she hurried past him into the house. He shut the door and stood with his bare back to her for a moment.

"John?"

As he spun around and the light caught his face, Alley gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. John's eye had a ring of black around it and there was dried blood near his nose. She noticed he was limping slightly as he made his way towards her and she gasped again as she saw his side covered in angry purple bruises. For once, she didn't know what to say and so she silently followed him to his room. He hastily pulled a black t-shirt over his head and sat on his bed, leaning against the wall. Alley followed suit.

"What happened to you?" she finally managed to choke out. She was in partial shock seeing him this way.

John shrugged, not making eye-contact. "I got jumped last night."

"What!" Alley gasped, immediately fearing the worst. "What the hell do you mean you got jumped? By who? I- uh- when?"

"I was walking home from Paul's," John explained. His voice didn't carry much emotion but Alley could hear anger in it. "Some fuckin' idiots jumped me near the school. I fought back- gave one bastard a nasty shiner- but you can't do much when it's five to one, can you?" Suddenly, he turned to look at her, his eyes blazing and she knew what was coming. "But how about you? What the fuck was that last night?"

Alley felt her defenses rising, the wall she built around herself coming up around her. She shrugged and said non-chalantly, "It was nothing."

"Nothing?" John cocked an eye-brow, giving her a sceptical look. "You on the floor while you're father is kicking you is normal, is it?"

"_Step-_father," Alley corrected curtly. No matter how long she had lived with Royce, she would never consider him her father. "And yes," she said, fixing her eyes on John, "it pretty much is normal. And not something I want to talk about it right now."

John held up his hands in surrender, not wanting to push it. "Whatever," he said, shrugging again. After a few silent moments he asked, "You have a step-brother then?"

Alley nodded, gritting her teeth as she spoke his name. "Yeah- Garrett." _The fucking bastard, _she silently added. Garrett had been living with her all her life and not once had they ever gotten along like a brother and sister should. And you would think that Royce always beating the both of them would unite them in some way but no- they never got along. Hell, sometimes even Garrett purposely got Alley in trouble so he wouldn't have to suffer the wrath of Royce. Realizing John was staring into space, an intense look crossing his face she asked, "What?"

"What does he look like?" John asked, his expression intensifying and his eyes darkening with each breath he took.

"Why?"

"Just fuckin' tell me!"

Alley shook her head, still not understanding. "Uh- he's- 22 and uh- he has reddish hair. He's Irish and he has a bit of an accent. And he's a goddamn fucking bastard!"

"Shit! Holy fuck!"

Alley was wide-eyed, staring at John as his anger grew. She grabbed onto his arm in an effort to get him to calm down. There were many stories of the John Lennon temper floating around school and two times so far, Alley witnessed just how dangerous he could be. She didn't want him to get like this now, especially if he was going to go out and do something stupid. But instead of speaking calming words, her curiosity got the better of her. Why was he asking so many questions about Garrett? And why did he get so angry after she described him. Suddenly, she thought back to this morning when she snuck back into her own house. Garrett was asleep in his room when she walked by and as she peered in at him, she saw that he had a black eye. Then she just shrugged and assumed it was another one of his drunken bar fights but now, the pieces were all beginning to fall into place.

"It was Garrett," she said, not a question but a statement of fact. John angrily nodded. Alley couldn't help it, she felt the anger bubbling inside of her, getting more and more intense until all she saw was red. She nearly leaped off the bed, panting with pure, unadulterated rage.

"I'm going to fucking kill him!" she half-screamed. John was up beside her in a second, pulling her back from the door.

"Relax!" he said harshly. "He'd fucking crush you!'

"I can take care of my goddamn self!" Alley spat, crossing her arms with a huff of determination. Garrett could mess with her, fine but NOT with her friends. She realized John was laughing now and turned to look at him, her eyes burning into his.

"Something funny, Lennon?" Despite her raging anger only a few seconds before, she felt herself starting to calm down. Although John laughing his high-pitched, retarded mouse laugh wasn't helping.

"You think you can just run off and fight him?" John asked, amusement twinkling in his eyes. Alley blew out a breath and shrugged.

"I can take care of myself," she said coolly, still keeping her arms crossed.

"Yeah, well," John said, pulling her back down onto the bed. She was sitting next to him now, half leaning against his side. "We can get him back. In a more- creative- way."

Now he had Alley's attention. She smirked at him. "I'm listening."

John shrugged, the mischievousness in his eyes matching hers. "I don't know what. But when the time is right- we'll fuck him up good."

"Sounds good to me," Alley said. She cocked her head to the side, the smirk on her lips widening. "But- what happened to the angry John Lennon I've heard so much about?"

"Oh," John said, leaning forward, forcing a dark look onto his face. "He hasn't gone anywhere."

Alley laughed and for a few moments, they stared into each other's eyes and then, much like the day before, their lips met and they kissed. But it didn't just end after a few moments; they seemed to be lost in their kissing, nothing else in the world mattering to them. Before Alley knew it, John has pushed forward and she fell back onto the bed, John hovering over her. It was like they couldn't bear to break apart; they were kissing intently and passionately. But as John began to slid his hand up her shirt, she broke from the kiss and grabbed his hand; stopping him.

"What?" he asked, looking down into her eyes.

"Not now," Alley said, pushing him off her. She lay there for a few moments, listening to their ragged breathing. As much as she wanted to, she knew she couldn't. Not right then at least.

"Why the fuck not?" John asked, sullen but not angry. Alley couldn't help but hide a grin. She guessed he hadn't been turned down a lot- if ever. But she just wasn't ready yet. She sat up and almost stood but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. He was sitting up in a flash.

"What?" Alley asked with a slight nervous chuckle. It was then she realized her shirt was half-way up and he was staring at the marks on her back. Quickly, she stood and smoothed down her shirt. "John…." she began but he cut her off.

"What the fuck is that?" he exclaimed, half shocked and half angry. He saw Alley's step father beating her but he would have never thought it was this bad. Even though he himself was known to strike out in anger before, the sight of Alley like this made him angry and sick.

"What the fuck do you think it is, John?" she spat angrily. She was tired of people feeling sorry for her and she did not need it from John. "So what? Royce beat me! Big fucking deal! It's not going to change anything! Can we just fucking move on?"

Alley was even surprised at her angry outburst. She didn't mean to lash out like that and she felt a pang of regret when she saw John look taken aback. Taking a deep breath, she began to walk towards the door, turning to John t say,

"I have to go. I'll see you in school on Monday, all right?"

Without bothering to wait for John's reply, she ran down the stairs and out of the house. She promised Cassidy she would meet her after school. And then she had to return to her own house where Royce would go crazy on her for not coming home the night before and not being there in the morning to make his breakfast. But it was starting not to matter to her anymore. What was one more beating? It wouldn't make a difference and she was way past caring now. She just lived life day to day, hoping that one day soon, she could get out, go far away and never return. But for now she was here, and she had to make due with what life handed her.

…..

**ALLEY AND JOHN FIRST DAY BACK AT SCHOOL: **

Alley was wrong.

That was all Cassidy could think about as the big, beefy girl took her by the collar of the fucking regulation pale blue blouse and shoved her into one of the lockers in the hallway everyone KNEW that you shouldn't go down, as it was dimly lighted and only the shadiest characters hung around there.

The girl's fist was pressing in a very inconvenient spot; her throat. Cassidy gasped for breath, the back of her head in a dull ache and her feet hovering inches from the ground. This wasn't fun. Not at all.

It was around that time that she heard the CLACK, CLACK, CLACK of pure evil heading towards her from the south end of the corridor. Marilyn Bent, out for revenge. What WOULDN'T that bitch stoop to?

She stopped right in front of where Cass was pinned to the locker, the light falling halfway on her face so that only one bright blue eye, half of her perfect nose, and half of those pink, thin lips were showing. "Well," she said, "look what I seem to have stumbled upon."

Cassidy kicked her legs wildly, her vision starting to blur in front of her eyes. She was gonna suffocate! And if she didn't, she would at LEAST pass out. She opened her mouth, trying to gulp in air, but nothing was making it down.

"Becky, let her down. We don't wanna kill the poor thing."

Cassidy dropped to the ground with a clatter, simply laying there limply and heaving for breath. She couldn't say a word, and she didn't even have to test this knowledge; every breath she took felt like she just swallowed a dagger.

Marilyn carefully stooped down, smoothing her skirt over her thighs. "I bet you're thinking twice about what you called me, aren't you? What was it? Dirty slut? Crazy bitch?"

"Cheating whore," Cass managed to croak, but even at that she thought she would have rather died than have to deal with the aftermath of pure, unadulterated pain that was staggering her breathing and putting tears in her eyes.

"Don't you hurt enough yet?" the other girl sneered, nodding towards the oversized Becky, who shall hereafter be referred to as Gigantor. Marilyn watched with cruel satisfaction as Gigantor threw Cassidy to her feet, wound up, and socked her one in the left eye.

Cassidy flew down the hall a couple of feet, and she was positive that either her eyeball had been completely mashed into her brain, or that it was about to fall out. She screamed hoarsely, holding her head and ducking into a ball, going into complete Armadillo Mode.

But Gigantor wasn't finished, apparently, as there were pounding footsteps (or maybe there were just several small earthquakes…the world may never know) as Gigantor came closer, hauled Cassidy to her feet, and punched her again, this time in the lip.

Lights exploded in front of Cassidy's eyes, and she could feel something wet and warm trickling from the corner of her mouth. She tried to stand up straight, but she couldn't see anything in front of her, the edges of her vision being blurred. She toppled over into the lockers, a mass of skinny, pale limbs.

Suddenly, a foot came out of nowhere, hitting her in the side and making her grunt, which in turn made her sore throat feeling like it was on fire. Tears trickled from her eyes, and she buried her face in her arms so that Marilyn wouldn't see.

"Next time." KICK. "Think twice." KICK. "About who you call." KICK. "A whore." KICK.

Cassidy didn't move, expecting more of a beating. But the bell rang, and she heard Marilyn and Gigantor's intake of breath. Then, without another word, she heard the pitter patter of the fucking regulation shoes as they hurried away, leaving her bloodied and bruised.

She pulled herself up into sitting position, her knees coming up to her chest and her arms wrapping around her legs. Tears poured from her eyes. It was the end of the school day. No one would be coming down this hallway. Paul was probably busy making out with some girl, she knew John wouldn't give a fuck about her, and Alley was probably going off somewhere with the devil himself.

Thinking Alley's name made her remember the incident with Ronnie. Was Alley scared then? Probably, but she would never show it. She probably didn't cower in a ball on the filthy ground. She would never do that. But would Cassidy? You bet. She just wasn't brave or strong, not at all.

Her breaths became shallow as she tipped her head back and looked at the ceiling, wiping blood away from her bruised lip. She was gonna look like hell tomorrow. And she was gonna feel worse. But nobody would care, probably. This happened to Alley all the time. She was beat up every day. Why couldn't she be more like Alley? She suddenly slammed her fists down into the ground, causing heavy pains to shoot up her arms.

More tears came then. This was great. This was just fucking great. Because no one was gonna come for her, she knew that much. She wasn't an idiot. She was alone in this world, and it had been her choice to separate herself. Her sobs wracked her body, making her shake and shudder.

And then it hit her—she wasn't like Alley. She wasn't ANYTHING like Alley. And she never was gonna be. And the one, major difference between Marilyn Bent's punishment for Cassidy and Ronnie Hartman's attack on Alley?

There was no John to save her.

**Addie's AN: Well... crap, Catie, that was awesome! Very intense!**

**Catie AN: Yes, whoever wrote that is EXTREMELY talented. I see a Pulitzer Prize in that...ahem...person's future.**

**Addie AN: Well, if we are talking Pulitzer Prize material then I would have to recommend the writer of the John and Alley parts. Superb writing I must say! John agrees.**

**Catie AN: John can suck my dick. And so can whoever writes those Alley and John scenes**

**Addie AN: Now now that's a jealous reply if I've ever seen one.**

**Catie AN: Go die...like John.**

**Addie AN: That was mean... John does not appreciate it. *looks away* I refuse to speak to you anymore during this chapter. And John would like to tell you to jump off a cliff. **

**Catie AN: Yeah, I know it was mean. But that's too bad, because I'm not apologizing to John. Yeah, you read that right. WE'RE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE!**

**Addie AN: Please review people, that's all I have to say. *Walks away with John***

**Catie AN: Uh huh, like SHE said. *walks away with George and then goes to make out with Paul...wait...what?***


	5. Chapter 5

**Addie AN: Hey there everyone! How's it going? Well, these beginning ANs are going to be super short. You'll realize why once you see the end of the chapter. Anyway- in short, just read the chapter! I promise you will laugh and also gasp in shock. So- read!**

**Catie AN: What up my sexy bitchezzzz? I would just like to say...hi. And I would ALSO like to say...scroll down a bit...keep scrollin...little more...NOW BACK UP TO THE TOP! SERIOUSLY DON'T READ THE BOTTOM ANS YET! Okay, now that I seriously tempted you, I would like to say that this is a long ass chapter, which I just proved to you with the scrolling. ALSO. There is some cute stuff, some shexay stuff, and some stuff that's gonna make you draw little devil horns on certain people's pictures. Just sayin. Sooooo...I guess...go read? *sighhh* Fine, I know you all want this sooo...here's a George for you.**** :^) Now go read, you dirty little whores. **

"I love you," Cassidy whispered, her eyes focused on his chin and her voice sounding shaky.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand coming up to weave into his hair and the other grasping him desperately.

"I love you, too," Paul breathed, one hand reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, the other pressing flat against the small of her back. He was pulling her impossibly closer to him, wanting there to be no space whatsoever.

She gasped a little bit, her heart racing. Then she pushed forward, knocking Paul onto the bed so that he was laying on his back, and she fell onto of him. She moulded her mouth to his, not wanting to breath and break their embrace.

"I'm ready," she said suddenly, pulling back and looking into his eyes.

Paul stared back intensely, his chest heaving with the force of his breaths. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." And then nothing more was said, for Paul watched with wide eyes as her fingertips travelled down…down to the hem of her shirt, then slowly began peeling the material away from her body—

**BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! **

Paul's arm shot out from under his blankets, slapping the off button on his alarm clock with seemingly unnecessary force.

Of course, he thought, just when it was getting good…

His drowsy mind ran over all the details of the dream, which was still crystal clear in his head. Her soft auburn curls…her full red lips…the freckles that dotted across her nose…those dark, denim blue eyes…he had to admit, she was on his mind a LOT these days. A little too much for his liking. As a matter of fact, even when he was busy making out with other girls, hers was the only face he could picture.

"Shit," he moaned, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles and then stretching his arms over his head. And that was all he had to say on the matter.

… _**Later that afternoon …**_

It was another cold, cloudy and rainy day in Liverpool.

_Like it could be any fucking different_, John thought to himself as he walked down the half-crowded street that led to the docks. Often in the past, when things were going or wrong or when life simply didn't make sense, he would go down to the docks and look out onto the choppy water. And he would stand there for as long as it took for him to get things right, simply just staring out at the water and going things over in his mind. But he didn't always run to the docks when he had a problem. Sometimes he went there just to find peace and to think. Many times as he watched the waves roll and crash, he would be thinking about his dreams of the future and how he wanted his life to exactly turn out.

But today he had a problem. And staring out onto the water wasn't giving him any answers.

Despite how his life could be absolutely fucked up sometimes, there was only one thing on his mind lately. One thing that constantly protruded in his dreams and made his stomach twist and turn in unpleasant ways. The one thing that plagued his existence was short with dark hair, bright green eyes and stubbornness that rivalled his own. This little "problem" was called Alley.

It wasn't that she herself was a problem. In fact, that was the total opposite from the truth. Ever since he first met her in the hallway when he more or less 'saved' her from Ronnie Hartman, John was intrigued by Alley. Most girls would bat their eye-lashes and swoon and thank him sweetly for helping them. But Alley? She all but told him to fuck off and insisted she could handle things on her own. There were hardly girls like that around- especially girls who wore jeans instead of the standard skirts most girls wore. Definitely she was different- she was something else. But the problem wasn't her- it was how she made him feel.

Every time he saw her- or even thought about her- he felt an unfamiliar feeling in his stomach. It was like butterflies dipped in acid were fluttering around like crazy in there, causing him to feel more confused and a little angry. His whole life he had worked hard to keep people out to keep feelings out but then here was this girl, trying to knock down his wall kept wall and get to his heart. Never had he seen himself as the relationship type; he never wanted to. He just dated girls and slept around but there was never anything serious involved- no feelings besides instant gratification. But John felt something towards her and it was confusing as hell. Half of him tried to push the feelings away but the other half remembered the spark he felt when they kissed and when they almost- The point was he felt something towards her and he didn't know what the hell he was going to do about it.

Pushing himself away from the rail with a frustrated grunt, he turned and began walking home. This wasn't something he could solve by staring into the water and taking time to think it over. For the first time in his life he would have to confront his feelings.

He just wasn't sure he could do it.

Sighing, he picked up his pace a little, remembering that he told Paul to meet him at his mother- Julia's- house so they could practice and maybe write a little. For the moment, he had to push his Alley problem aside and focus on the one thing in his life that made sense.

…

Paul ran his fingers over the frets of his guitar. Right here, in Julia Lennon's house, with his guitar in his lap and a smile on his face, listening to soft music and drinking hot tea, was his favourite place in the world. "Aye, John," he said, tuning his instrument mindlessly.

"What's been going on with you and that Alley?"

John, half sprawled on the couch with his guitar draped over his stomach, shrugged without looking at his friend. He thought about the days of the suspension he had spent mostly with Alley. They had kissed and they almost did- something more. He was unsure why but as he let his mind travel back to these moments, he felt a weird, indescribable feeling in his stomach.

Paul looked up from his guitar when John didn't answer him. "Well? You spend five days with her, and her only, and you have nothing to report at ALL?"

"Well," John said, feeling a slow grin spread across his face. He turned his head so he could see Paul but not break his comfortable position. "I did kiss her. And we almost fucked."

Paul swallowed roughly. Although he had been expecting something like this, it still was hard for him to hear. John talked to him ALL the time about the numbers of one night stands he'd had...all the girls he'd been with and which ones were good and which ones were bad and...ugh. For Paul, it was just too much sometimes.

John had turned back around to stare at the wall but he didn't need to see Paul to know his reaction. Plucking a few strings on his guitar to fill the silence, he thought about Alley. He never considered himself to be a relationship man and usually took the route of one-night stands with different girls every night. But Alley- she was different although he still wasn't sure how he felt about her. Although he never remembered being so disappointed at not sleeping with a girl. It wasn't something he wanted to think about at the moment.

He decided a change of subject was in order. "So Macca," he said, turning to meet his friend's gaze once more, "How about you and that bitch girl?"

Paul's mouth twitched as he immediately opened it up to retort something sharp back, but he closed it with a snap. If he defended Cassidy, John would think he liked her. And while he DID like her (a lot, actually) John really couldn't know that. "Er, do you mean Cassidy Farrell?"

John scoffed loudly. "No, the other Cassidy! Don't give me that, McCartney! I can practically see your boner from here!"

"Shut it, I don't like her like that." He considered telling him about the kiss that ruined it all, but he didn't. Because then John would just make fun of him. "She doesn't really like me all that much, in case you haven't noticed."

"Bull-shit, Macca!" John said, a smirk playing on his lips. He could see exactly how he and Cassidy felt about each other. He turned to look at him and pointed one finger in his direction. "YOU are in love with her. And she probably is just waiting to jump you!"

Paul shook his head vigorously. "Shut the fuck up. You don't know what you're talking about. We're just friends, that's IT. Period. We're never gonna be more." His heart sank at these words, but he had to admit to himself that they were probably true.

John wasn't convinced and his tone said so. "Don't fucking feed me that shit! You two will end up fucking each other until the cows fuckin' come home or whatever."

Paul stood up quickly. He really hated when John was like this, and he ESPECIALLY hated it now that he was talking about Cassidy...who was only his friend. "Will you leave it alone, John?" He sat his guitar down on the chair, running his hands through his hair. "It's hard enough as it for me to just be friends with her, I don't need YOU assuming things that aren't true."

John cocked an eye-brow. "How is it hard to be friends with her?" He pushed his guitar off him, laying it on the floor and sat up, leaning his back against the wall. He reached over to the coffee table, took a cigarette from the pack and sat back against the wall, lighting it quickly. He blew smoke towards Paul, unfazed by his outburst. "Well- I'm waiting!"

"It's hard because..." Well, shit. That effort before was completely wasted. As usual, John had got the information that he wanted out of his victim. "Because, well, I don't WANT to be just friends with her. But if I told her that, she would...she would...run away from me. Again," he added at the end, because if he was telling the truth now, it might as well ALL come out.

"Maybe she ran because she was scared," John said in a serious tone. He could have gone the other route and gave Paul trouble until he was past exasperated but he knew how Paul felt. "Listen, Macca, she fuckin' likes you. There ain't nothing else to it." He inhaled deeply and let the smoke escape through his nose.

"She ran because I kissed her and she didn't want to be kissed...by me," he said flatly, choosing to ignore the last part because he knew it wasn't exactly true.

John rolled his eyes and threw his cigarette into the red ashtray on the table. He shook his head, simply saying "Whatever, Macca."

Paul leaned against a wall, repeatedly rubbing his hand over his cheeks. "Whatever is right...maybe I should just find some random bird to hook up with tomorrow night, yeah? It IS gonna be a Friday night, after all."

John nodded, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "You got that right, McCartney! What should we do?" He laughed at a warning look from Paul as he cocked his head to the side, thinking of the many ways to jazz up a Friday night.

"I dunno..." He cringed, reading the look on John's face. "But please, John, nothing illegal?"

"Now, Paul," he said, grinning widely. "When do I ever do anything illegal?"

… _**Later that day …**_

**DING-DOOOOOOOOOOONG!**

Cassidy clenched her jaw, staring down at the words to her book in silent anger. Every single fucking time she sat down to read, there was an interruption.

"CECILIA!" she screamed, knowing full well that the people outside could hear her through the thin walls. But at this point, she didn't really care. People were always ringing her bell, looking for her little sister or for her mother or for their missing puppy or for just about anything else God could dream up to plague her with. And every single time, SHE was the one closest to the door. And the rule in the Farrell house was this: if you're closest, you answer it. But Cassidy really, REALLY didn't feel like it at that moment.

Sure enough, Cecilia pitter-pattered down the stairs, her dressed flouncing out around her happily. "Oh, I hope it's Brad!" she tweeted as she made her way to the front door. "He's just the cutest—" Her happy tone stopped dead, becoming dull and bored. "Oh, it's you."

Cass knew what that tone meant; George Harrison was here again. She grinned at just the thought of this. For some reason, she just LOVED that kid. He had so much spunk that other kids these days just lacked.

"'Ello, Cecilia."

Cass got to her feet, moving quietly to stand on the stairs, half-hiding behind the banister. This was an excellent vantage point to watch the scene.

"Er…hi." Cecilia shifted her weight from one foot to another, leaning disinterestedly against the doorframe.

George stood there, looking mortified. You would think he would be used to this whole situation by now, but no. He looked as scared and nervous as ever. "Yes, well, um…some weather we're having, isn't it?" He looked up at the Liverpudlian sky. It was grey, as per usual.

"Not really," Cass's sister said in a blatant monotone.

The boy cleared his throat, shuffled his feet a bit, and looked at something over his shoulder. His eyes remained focused there for a second longer than was normal, and then his gaze shifted back to Cecilia. A renewed confidence was bright on his face.

"Cecilia Farrell, you are the most beautiful girl I know. Will you accompany me to the Fall Formal this Saturday evening…please?" George's face was a bright, glowing red, his eyes wide and glittering dark chocolate brown. Cassidy was silently cooing over his adorableness.

Cecilia was frozen, her body hardly moving as she took in breaths. Cassidy could only see the back of her head, but from what she saw, Cecilia was the opposite of convinced. Finally, after what seemed like ten zillion years, she straightened up.

"I'm taken."

Cass felt her jaw clench once more, frustration surging through her body. What. A. Bitch.

"Oh…okay then. Well, it was nice seeing y—"

"Who's your friend?" Cass watched as Cecilia's hand came up to fluff her hair, then to rest on her hip in what she clearly thought was a sexy fashion. George glanced behind him, as though he had only noticed for the first time that someone was there.

"Oh, him? That's me mate, Paul. Paul McCartney, this is Cecilia Farrell." He even spoke her name as though in awe. Really, George, Cassidy thought to herself. She is OBVIOUSLY a monstrous, nasty thing. Why bother?

"Well, how do you do, Paul?" Cecilia giggled, sticking out her palm flirtatiously.

Cassidy's heart basically stopped as she saw George step reluctantly out of the way, and Paul come into few. Jesus Fucking Christ, he looked even better than she remembered. He didn't smile at Cecilia, merely shaking her hand briefly and craning his neck to see past her.

"Fine, thanks. Is your sister home?"

Cassidy couldn't help but grin to herself. She was glad that she and Paul were friends now, even if it DID give off a little bit of a pang every time she saw him wink at some random girl in the hallways at school. She stood up, ready to announce her presence, when Cecilia eased the door shut a little bit. Nothing noticeable, but just enough so that Paul couldn't see past her.

"No, I don't think so. But if you want, I could…?" She let the question hang out in the air, obviously expecting Paul to answer it for her.

"You could…what?" Paul asked, raising one of those perfectly arched eyebrows.

Cecilia blushed, embarrassed that he hadn't played along. "I could look, I guess," she said dully, as though defeated. She spun around, as though she knew the entire time that Cassidy was seated on the staircase, and flexed her index finger in a come hither sort of way. Cass bounded down the stairs breathlessly, wondering what Paul wanted, and yanked the door open all the way so that both sisters were now visible.

For some reason, as soon as Paul saw her, his eyes widened a little bit and his gaze shifted to the concrete steps. "Hi?" Cass asked unsurely, cocking her head and watching as the two boys outside exchanged a look.

"Hi," Paul answered, then looked pointedly at Cecilia, who was still standing dutifully next to Cassidy. "Er…could we have a moment?" he asked when she didn't quite seem to get the hint.

She glanced at Cassidy, hesitating. When Cass made no move to stop her, she turned around, heading just out of eyesight, but not out of earshot.

"Yeah, so," Paul continued, as though there had never been an interruption, "listen. Tomorrow night, I wanted to go to the pictures. But see, George doesn't quite wanna go with me, as he thinks it's queer for two lads to see a movie together." At this, he glanced behind him and gave his friend a dirty look. George looked at his feet bashfully.

Cassidy nodded, not quite understanding why he was telling her this. "Yeah…so…?"

"So, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe come with me? Around…say…seven o'clock tomorrow night?"

Date. That was the word going through Cassidy's mind. He was asking her on a date. Date, date, date, date. There were probably worse things to do at night, she supposed, then to go on a date with Paul McCartney, but still. Something didn't sit right with her.

"Paul…I thought we agreed—"

"Yeah!" Paul said quickly, throwing his hands up in front of him. "Of course. Right. It'd be, ya know, just friends and all. Not a…not a date or anything."

"Not a date..." Cassidy repeated slowly, finding herself nodding even though she still didn't think it was that great of an idea.

"Nope. Just two friends, seeing a movie."

Cass bit her lip, finding a slow smile spreading across her face. "Alright then. Tomorrow night, seven o'clock."

Paul nodded, looking bright and cheery. "Right! See you then!" And then he hopped off her stairs, tugging George along with him. Little Georgie turned around briefly to give her a sullen wave, the chased after his friend.

Cassidy closed the door softly, as though in a daze. She stood there staring at it for a while, then turned to go back to her book, thinking about what happened. She was startled out of her trance when she crashed straight into her sister, who was standing there staring at her with folded arms and narrowed eyes.

"We're friends," Cass told her, although she hadn't asked. Cecilia continued to stare at her like that, making Cass feel a bit more than uncomfortable. She felt herself getting defensive. "It's not a date!"

Cecilia continued to not say anything, and for awhile they just looked at each other.

Then, with a half disappointed, half defeated sigh, Cecilia turned on her heel and marched up the stairs.

"It's not a date," Cassidy repeated to herself quietly as she sat down with her book, nestling into her father's overstuffed armchair. "It's not."

… _**The following day **_…

Cassidy bounced out of her house, happy as always to be out of there. She glanced at the simple, brick house four doors down, wondering what Alley was doing, and contemplated stopping by there. Then, she happened to glance at the street, and what she saw there made her stop dead in her tracks, planting her feet on the sidewalk. John Lennon was laying there, smack in the middle of the pavement, staring up at the sky with his hands folded over his chest.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Cassidy asked, raising one eyebrow and watching him from where she stood.

John, half-annoyed from being broken from his thoughts, looked up at Cassidy. He felt his mouth twitch into a smirk as he saw the expression on her face. Sitting up and slightly propping himself on his elbows, he shrugged at her. "What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?" he asked in a casual tone.

"It looks like you're trying to get yourself run over," Cassidy answered, as though they were talking about the weather.

"I'm on the sidewalk," John said matter-of-factly, looking on either side of him as if to make sure he actually was on the sidewalk. Slowly, he stood and brushed himself off, picking at the stubborn rock that was stuck to the back of his pants. After a few seconds of staring at each other, he leaned back against the fence of someone's house and stared into the sky. He wasn't much of a conversationalist by nature and to top it all off, he didn't really have much to say to Cassidy.

Cassidy crossed her arms across her chest tightly, continuing to stare at him. "Yeah, you were on the sidewalk. In front of my house." She adopted a sneer onto her face, then pointed to the house she had been looking at earlier. "Alley's house is down there-you missed by four."

"She isn't home," John said, suddenly feeling anger boiling inside of him as he thought of how Royce answered the door and all but told him to fuck off. In a controlled tone he said, "Her step-father answered the door and told me." His jaw was clenched in anger and he felt his fist balling at his side.

Cassidy heard the slight change in his tone, and her eyes focused on the aggressive body language he was throwing off. "He's an asscracker," Cassidy commented, slightly scared of the famous Lennon Temper that was obviously in the works at the moment.

John would have normally smiled but he was angry and his anger was growing more and more intense as he thought about Alley and the- to quote Cassidy- asscracker of a step-father she had to live with. He spun around suddenly and punched the fence he was leaning against, grunting as he did. It was a hard enough punch to leave a hold in what once was a white picket fence. He turned back to Cassidy

and asked quietly, "Do you know what he does to her?"

"Yeah, I know what he does to her. And I also know that my da's gonna want an explanation as to why there is now a hole in our fence."

"Sorry," John said, grinning sheepishly. "You can tell him it was me." He shrugged as a mask of stoniness and anger appeared on his face. "All the shit I pull, a fuckin' fence doesn't matter."

Cassidy bit her lip. He was right, though she hated to admit it. In the grand scheme of things, did a little, white picket fence really matter? To people like her Mam and Da it did. And she guessed that the true difference between her and the rest of the world was just that; they needed to open up their eyes. "So," she said quietly, addressing a previous topic, "you know about Royce the Royally Fucked Up?"

"Yeah," John said in a quiet tone, kicking at a rock on the ground. He didn't want his anger to overpower him again because this time, he'd be punching a hole through Royce and the fence really wouldn't matter anymore. Looking up at Cassidy he said, "I walked in on him hitting her. And I fuckin' punched him." John took a breath to push the anger from him and looked away from Cassidy, his gaze on Alley's house. "He had his son and his friends jump me, you know?" he said quietly, after a few seconds of silently staring at the house.

Cassidy swallowed roughly, remembering the night that Alley came to her house, severely beaten and bruised. Cass's hand immediately went to her side, where one of her most prominent bruises was. The dress she was wearing completely hid it, but she couldn't honestly say that knew how John and Alley felt. "I...I didn't know Garrett did that, no."

John shrugged, a ghost of a smile replacing his angry expression. "Me and Alley plan to get him back."

Cassidy gulped. She really didn't like the sound of that. Even though Garrett constantly hit on her and tried to get in her pants and was a doucheface to Alley, she wasn't a violent person by nature. "...what are you gonna do?" she asked, as though she would rather NOT know.

"Don't know yet," John said with a shrug. He never knew what he was going to do- he just did what he felt like doing.

Cassidy nodded slowly, letting her eyes drift away from him. "I think that's what I don't like about you," she said suddenly, not EXACTLY meaning for this to be said out loud.

"Well gee," John said sarcastically cocking an eye-brow, "I'm crushed."

John felt a pang of- something- when she said this but he ignored it. Generally he didn't give a fuck about what people thought of him. He lived his life the way he wanted it and acted the way he felt like acting- not the way other people wanted him to or expected him to. He thought himself to be above it all and he had long since comfortably settled himself into not caring. But there was something in Cassidy's comment that made him feel weird inside and he didn't particularly like it. But he just shrugged it off, forced himself to look indifferent and said, "How do you know what's good for her? You don't even know me."

"I know enough," she said, taking a half step away from him. "And I also know that she cares about you, and that no matter what you say, you really, REALLY care about her." She lifted a hand to brush a piece of hair out of her eyes, and her fingertips accidentally touched the bruised section of skin around her left eye. She winced, hoping that John didn't see. She had been careful that morning to apply liberal amounts of makeup to that spot.

"Oh," he simply said, not knowing what else to say. He was about to say more but he caught the wince that Cassidy was trying to pass off as nothing. Being someone who got into more fights than he could remember, he knew the signs. "What's that?" he asked, nodding his head towards her.

Cassidy's intake of breath should have said it all, but just in case she didn't she became WAY overly defensive in an attempt to be casual. "What? What's what? I don't know what you're talking about."

John didn't answer, just raised his eye-brows at her, leaned against the fence and crossed his arms; waiting.

Cassidy stared right back at him, determined not to say anything. But then she looked at his eyes, which were really tiny and beady and squinty and creeped her out. Almost like...her could SEE into her mind... "Okay, fine," she spat. "I...fell."

John reminded silent for a few seconds, staring at her blankly and then... he burst into such loud laughter that the whole fence shook. "Right," he said between his giggles, "and I'm Elvis Presley!"

"Elvis Presley is sexy, therefore you are NOT Elvis Presley," Cassidy hissed, super embarrassed. She knew he didn't believe her, but there was no way in HELL that she was gonna tell him the truth.

John put his hand over his heart, feigning mock hurt. "We both know I'm sexier than Elvis!" He stood upright again, a serious expression flashing across his face. "But you didn't fall," he said to her, his eyes dead set on hers. "We both know that too."

Cassidy lost the will to argue with him, instead looking down at the ground, ashamed of herself. "Don't tell Alley," she said softly, knowing how pissed beyond belief her best friend would be if she knew.

"Okay," he said simply. Sliding down the fence so that he was sitting on the sidewalk and with his back to the fence, he looked up at her and waited.

Cassidy sat down next to him. "I...Marilyn Bent got some girl to beat me up yesterday after school."

"She's a fucking retard," John said, thinking about the time Marilyn Bent tried to throw herself on him. He didn't like her and he was pretty sure she was the type who'd get other people to fight her battles for her. God forbid she break a bloody nail or something. But he was confused and his face told Cassidy that he was. "Why would she?" he asked.

Cassidy sighed, rolling her eyes. "I announced to the class that she was cheating whorebag because she cheated off me in class." She didn't exactly understand why she was telling John this stuff, but now that she was going she wasn't going to stop. "And I mean, it's not like that wasn't PERFECTLY obvious. What kind of senior cheats off a sophomore?" She watched as a blonde boy that looked slightly familiar (though she couldn't quite place his face) bicycled past her house. He kept her gaze as he went by, his eyes taking in the scene. Whatever. Kids were so fucking judgemental these days.

John snorted, giving her a look. He didn't like people who tattled but he wished he could see Marilyn's face when Cassidy did this. "She is pretty much dumb as a fuckin' post."

"Duh," Cass said. Then she looked back up at Alley's house once more. "I hope you know that this doesn't change a THING."

John shrugged. "Didn't think it did."

"Good." And then she got up and walked away, unsure of what just happened.

… _**Meanwhile …**_

Alley sighed to herself as she walked up the path to the McCartney's house. She was alone and she was bored out of her mind. She didn't know where Cass was and John hadn't come around so she decided to visit Paul. They talked in passing, sure but the two of them had never hung out before. Coming up to the front door, Alley peered into the small window. The house looked dark and for a second she wondered if anyone was home or if she should just leave. But she didn't feel like being alone today so she knocked on the door and waited, leaning her weight onto one leg with a hand on her hip.

Paul was sitting on his bed, a pen in one hand and his guitar on the other, a notebook balanced on his knee. He heard someone bang on the door, but he was RIGHT in the middle of a lyric.

"MIKE! GET THE DOOR!" he screamed. When he heard no footsteps, he sighed heavily, pushing his songwriting gear off his lap and shuffling over to the door. But when he pulled open the door, he found something that he was really, really not expecting. Rather, someONE.

"Uh...Alley?"

"Hi Paul," Alley greeted, smiling at him. "How's it going?"

Paul cocked his head, grinning confusedly. "Fine, thanks. Whatcha doin' here?"

Alley shrugged, still smiling. Then she blew out a breath and the smile disappeared, her face adopting it's normal emotionless expression. "I'm bored," she admitted. "Cass is- somewhere and John is- somewhere. I just decided to swing by. Do you mind?"

Paul leaned against the doorway. "Not really." Then an amusing thought crossed his mind. "What if the two of them were together?"

Alley chuckled. "John and Cass? Really? They'd kill each other."

Paul laughed. "Yeah...I don't really understand why the hate each other so much."

"Well," Alley said with a smirk, "Cass thinks he's a bastard and a man-whore. Which he kind of is but- anyway, they just seem to not get along."

"They're too much alike," Paul agreed, shaking his head. The he adopted a devilish grin. "But you and John seem to click quite nicely."

Alley tried to keep the smile from her face. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

Paul rolled his eyes. "Don't worry; I know allllllll about all of that."

"Oh God!" Alley said, groaning. "What the fuck has he been saying?"

Paul was just loving this. Usually it was John torturing HIM. "He's been saying...things."

Alley groaned again. Then she adopted an angry look. "I'm gonna cut off his balls!"

Paul gave her a reproachful look. "Whoa there. He didn't tell me THAT much."

Alley smirked. "I know. Cause there isn't that much to tell!" She cocked her head to the side, raising her eye-brows at him. "But don't tell me you wouldn't want to see him get beat up by a girl!"

"I would pay MONEY to see that," Paul told her, grinning away. He was picturing it in his head at just that second, as a matter of fact. But it wasn't Alley he was picturing, it was Cassidy. Cassidy... Shit. He HAD to get that girl out of his head

"Well you just might," Alley said with a smirk. She sat down on the front step, leaning against the porch. She was thinking about John and all she had heard about his reputation. "If he acts like a bastard that is." But then she thought of the time spent with him and sighing softly she said, "But he can be good too."

"Are you kidding?" Paul asked, sitting next to her. "He can be great. Just great. It's just that...when he's not..." He looked over at Alley, sitting there and looking soft and fragile, yet strong willed and hardy. If anyone could handle John, he thought, she could.

"When he's not," Alley echoed, thinking about when John punched out Ronnie Hartman and then when he tried to save her from Royce. He definitely had a temper and Alley was sure she didn't want to see it when it was in full swing. She looked over at Paul, instantly seeing why Cassidy was attracted to him- whether she wanted to admit it or not. "Why is he like the way he is?" Alley asked. "John."

Paul thought about this. "Just so many things. First, of course, there's Julia. She's a lovely lady, but she screwed him up good. And his dad...there's just been a lot of rough things for him."

"I always wondered why he lived with his aunt," Alley said quietly, thinking of some of the rumours she heard about John's mother and how his aunt took him away from her. She never heard anything about his father.

"Mimi has been really good to him. Raised him up and everything." Paul shrugged, his mouth twitching. "But John needs Julia. She's a fiery one, her. And I think she's really changed for the better. His father...well, let's just say he's out of John's life."

"I know how that is," Alley said, the words coming out much more bitter than she intended them too. She had issues with her own father who left when she was young. And that's how she got stuck with Royce.

Paul watched Alley carefully, wondering what she meant. "You mean...?" This was the trouble with Paul and women. He was always too forward, wanting to know too much, and speaking too much truth.

"Yeah," Alley said, feeling the anger she kept so well buried pushing it's way to the surface. She was gripping the banister of the stairs so hard that her knuckles were turning white from effort. She didn't like talking about certain things but for some reason, she felt that she could tell Paul. He seemed honest and sweet and she felt like she could talk to him. "My father left my mother when I was young. He had some sort of affair or some stupid shit like that. I've never heard from him since. God," she angrily spat, "he's probably got another family somewhere."

Paul's mouth hung open; he hadn't exactly been expecting that. But that's what you get when you ask a question; you get an answer. He moved from the doorway, moving to sit down next to Alley. "Shit...that's bad. I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine," Alley said, regaining most of her composure. She took a deep breath and tried to smile at Paul. He already looked freaked out and she didn't want to completely scare him away. "I didn't mean to unload all that on you." She shrugged, staring into the rain that has just started to pour down from the blackened Liverpool sky. "It's all in the past now, anyway."

Paul knew all about that. His mom had died a few years ago, and he had spent at LEAST a year trying to get over it. Luckily, he discovered music, and that was his escape. But from what he gathered from John and Cass, Alley had a lot of shit in her life and no outlet in which to get it out in. "The past is a sketchy place, yeah?"

"So is the present," Alley mumbled, not meeting Paul's eyes for the first time. She didn't know if John said anything about Royce although she was pretty sure he knew about Garrett and his friends jumping John. "My step-father is a bastard," Alley said as explanation.

He thought about lying, saying that he had no idea about any of that. But, he wasn't and would never be a liar. "I know," he said softly, his gaze off and out in the thickening rain.

"Did John tell you?" she asked, her tone soft and not angry.

Paul shrugged. "Sorta. He came to my house one night, fuming and out of control. And I sorta figured it out." He looked over at Alley, his eyes concerned. "And Cassidy knew? Why didn't you ever...you know...stay with her. Or have her call the police?"

"I do stay with her sometimes," Alley said. "But she can't call the police. Royce is- he has a reputation in this town and an abusive drunk is not part of it. No one would believe me and he would just kill me anyway." She closed her eyes, forcing back the tears that wanted so desperately to break free. She looked at Paul, trying to smile at him. She didn't want him to feel sorry for her. "Besides" she said "It won't matter when I finally get out of here and never come back!"

Paul nodded; he could understand this. "Yeah...I've got similar plans. One day," he confided, "me and John are gonna hit it big. I just know it."

"I believe you," Alley said with a full grin. "You guys are going to be pretty famous. A bunch of girls are going to be screaming your names and wanting you to bear their children or something."

Paul ducked his head, blushing slightly. "I dunno about all that...but it would be great. More for me than John, I think. Sometimes he doesn't handle people well." Then he rethought his words, feeling like he should add something. "But, I would miss things here. You know, certain things and places...and people."

"Yeah, I get it," Alley said, thinking of her whole life spent in this town. It was a part of her and if she ever did leave, she would miss it dearly- even if she didn't want to admit to it. "But think of it," Alley said, lightly hitting Paul in the arm. "You guys could be as famous as Elvis or even bigger. You can even change the world with your music!"

Paul grinned dreamily, still staring out into the rain. "Isn't it funny to think that one day, this moment is going to seem like a distant memory?" He looked down at his hands, which were itching for an instrument and a pen. "One day..."

… _**Later that night …**_

"It's not a date," Paul said as soon as he saw Cassidy.

"I know."

They stared at each other for a full minute, Cass standing in her door way and Paul on her front porch. Paul inhaled quickly. "So, if I said you look really pretty, you would know that I just mean that in a stating the facts sort of way, not in a I want to get in your pants sort of way, right?"

Cassidy bit back a grin. He thought she was pretty. "And if I said that you look adorable right now, you would know that I meant that in a stating the facts way, not a I want to have your babies way, right?"

"Yeah, because we decided that we're just friends."

"And that this isn't a date."

"Right."

"Right."

Paul nodded, then ran his hand through his hair, not knowing what to say. Cass watched him, half fascinated, half disgusted by her blatant lying. Surely he must know that she didn't want to be only friends. But obviously this knowledge was lost on him, because he showed no signs of uncomfortable-ness.

"Let's go," Cassidy finally said, and Paul breathed out in relief. He didn't know if he could take one more second of that staring.

Cassidy bounded out of her house, turning around and closing the door behind her. She breezed past him, heading for the sidewalk, and a wisp of her hair tickled Paul's neck. In a flash, he was reminded of the dream he had the previous night, and he blushed bright red. If Cassidy EVER found out about that, he would literally die. As in, she would kill him.

The walk to the movie theatre was filled with happy banter between them, as they talked so easily and it was never forced conversation. Paul knew this was only because Cassidy talked a LOT, but he didn't mind; he was guilty of the same thing.

"…and then Cecilia barged into my room, marched right to my closet, took my dress, and left. She didn't even say a word to me." She looked down at herself, suddenly bashful. "And that would be why I'm wearing this."

Paul nodded, taking this in. "So that's Cecilia's?" he asked, indicating the navy blue sundress that hugged her midriff and flounced around her legs.

"She took what I was gonna wear tonight! What was I supposed to do?"

"Ahh…you looking so beautiful is revenge then?" He grinned, obviously meaning for this to be said light and playfully. But it came out slightly intense, and it made Cassidy blush.

"Shut up," she said, because honestly? She didn't consider herself to be beautiful. She was far too…what was the word? Real. Beautiful people, in her humble opinion, were far too fake.

"What?"

"I'm not 'beautiful'," she spat, scrunching up her nose as if this was the worst thing in the world to be.

Paul stopped dead in his tracks, as they were in front of the movie theatre. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him. "Don't be stupid," he warned. How could she not see what he did?

Cassidy yanked her arm away from him, crossing both of them tightly in front of her. "I'm not. Look at me!"

"I am."

She rolled her eyes. "Beautiful people are people like…like Cecilia. She's gorgeous, true, but not in a way that anybody actually likes. And it's not like she's exactly modest about it. She'll act like she doesn't know it, like she doesn't try, but then she'll spend hours upon hours getting ready to go to the simplest places. She doesn't leave her room without a full face of makeup on."

Paul cocked his head, strangely interested in this. "And you're not like this?"

"No."

"Right," Paul said, nodding as though this made perfect sense, "because you're the effortlessly beautiful type."

Cassidy's hardened features fell, her arms coming to her side with a slap. "You're missing the point completely," she said, her voice completely dead.

Paul chuckled, shaking his head slowly. "C'mon, crazy, we gotta film to watch."

… _**Twenty Minutes Later …**_

If you asked Cassidy to repeat what the last two lines of the movie were, she couldn't tell you. Every time Paul moved even an inch, she found her eyes darting over to him, her ears perking up, her body on alert. She could feel the heat of his body on her arm, which was resting centimeters away from his. Her body was humming with electricity and she could not for the life of her focus on anything.

Cassidy kept fidgeting. And every time she did, Paul did, too. There were so many thoughts buzzing around his head, he couldn't even remember the title of the film. Something about…okay, he had absolutely no idea.

Cass shifted her body from one arm to the other, so that her head was resting on the palm of the arm nearest to him. He calculated her every move, just waiting for the right moment to do…something. And then she leaned her head back so that her soft, corkscrew hair brushed up against his arm and remained there.

His heart was beating too fast. WAY too fast. They were just friends, they were just friends, he repeated to himself. They were just friends. She sighed, the sound light and melodic. It made the hairs on Paul's arm stand up, and he swallowed roughly. He would do anything to just…put his arm around her…

Suddenly, the lights flickered on in the theatre, and Cassidy stood up quickly. She grinned down at Paul, stretching her arms above her head.

"Shit, am I tired."

Paul looked up, a little bit disappointed. "Yeah? I thought you might want to come over to my house. You know, meet my dad and Mike."

Cassidy stared at him. Meeting his family? Didn't that sound a little bit like they were dating? Paul must have read her expression, because he added quickly, "But it's TOTALLY fine if you don't want to. I mean, they've just heard so much and…"

"Of course I will, Paul. I just gotta get home by ten. You know, curfew and all."

… _**One and a Half Hours Later …**_

Paul and Cassidy sprinted down the street, laughing madly and gasping for breath. "C'mon, Paul! I only have five more minutes!"

Paul chased after the girl, unable to keep the wide grin from spreading across his face. "Well if you could slow down a bit—"

"Can't! No time!" Cassidy managed to choke out.

Paul put his head down, pumping his fists and racing to Cassidy. She was lightning quick and not looking as though he pace was gonna slow down any time soon. She rounded a corner, and he followed her. Finally, she came to a dead stop outside of a big, painted white house with a picket fence (that featured a fist-sized hole in one of the planks) and a grassy green yard. Paul thought he caught a look of certain distaste on Cass's face, but the next second she spun around to face him, grinning wide.

"Well, here I am." She glanced up at her house again, as though it was a child that was misbehaving in front of important company. "I absolutely love your family, just so you know."

Paul chuckled. "And they loved you. Particularly Mike…" He made a face, and Cassidy started giggling. Mike was a cute kid, she HAD to admit.

Paul glanced down at his watch. "It's ten o'clock," he announced, looking up at her house. Inside, the lights were on and he could see people passing by the front window. "You better go inside."

Cassidy followed his gaze, then looked back at him. She looked…wary. "Yeah, I should."

Right at that second, that very moment in time, the only thing Paul wanted in the entire world was to lean in and kiss her. But he resisted, because that wasn't what she wanted. And that was all that was important to him at the moment.

Plus, he had no interest of getting smacked in the face.

"Well…bye then," he said, somewhat awkwardly.

Cassidy smiled brightly, trying to eliminate some of the awkwardness. "Bye, Paul." And then she walked inside her house. She was immediately hailed with questions.

"Where were you?"

"We were worried sick!"

"Cassidy Elizabeth Farrell, you are in some trouble!"

"Cecilia said she say a boy outside…who was that?"

"What's going on?

"Cassidy?"

"Cassidy?"

Cass stared at her parents, both stereotypically concerned. She set her jaw. For once, she would just like to be left alone.

"I was at the pictures, I told you that. And that 'boy' was Paul, and we're just friends. What's going on? Well, I KINDA wanted to go sleep."

"Paul? Paul McCartney? The one whose mother died a few years back? Cassidy, that boy's trouble. I don't want you—"

"MAM! Just SHUT UP! You don't know him. Hell, you don't even know ME. So stay the FUCK out of my life." Cassidy stomped up the stairs, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"You watch your mouth, young la—"

But Cassidy had already slammed the door, blocking her out.

… _**The following day … **_

Paul tore down the sidewalk, thoughts racing through his mind and his vision blurred. He heard his friend's voice in his head, half mocking him. 'So, Freckles and John, huh? And I thought you were gonna actually get this one.' Over and over again, the words repeated, the story he had heard playing like a movie in front of his eyes. Paul ripped the front gate open, stomped up the front walk, and commenced to pounding on the door in front of him. He was at the only place that made sense to be at: Alley's house.

Alley was in her room, staring up at the white ceiling and letting her thoughts drift. It was one of the few times she had the house to herself and she was enjoying the quiet solitude. But suddenly, a loud pounding broke through the peaceful stillness and she bolted upright on her bed, heart racing in her chest. At first she thought it was Royce bursting through the door but when she realized it was only someone at the front door, she calmed. Running down the stairs quickly and pulling open the door, she was surprised to see that particular person on her doorstep. She was about to make a joke but one look at his angry face made the words catch in her throat.

"Paul?" she asked with some concern. "What are you doing here? And are you okay?"

Paul pushed past her, his hands running through his hair as he took each aggressive step forward. Normally, he wasn't an angry person, and things didn't upset him much. But right then? Yeah, right then he was pissed as fuck.

"Do you know where John and Cassidy were today, Alley? Do you?" he spat, spinning around and staring at her with wild eyes.

"Calm the fuck down!" Alley said loudly with her hands held up toward him. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the couch, forcing him to sit down. She looked into his normally calm and docile eyes and asked, "What the hell is your problem? And what do John and Cass have to do with anything?"

"They...they..." Paul sputtered, trying to put his angry, jumbled up thoughts into words. "They were..." Paul gripped the arm of the couch, trying to get a hold of himself. Why did he care so much, anyways? It wasn't like Cassidy was his girlfriend, and it wasn't like he had told John she was off limits or anything.

"They what?" Alley asked, trying to get an answer out of her. As her mind thought about what the two of them could have done, the expression on her face visibly darkened. She could only imagine. "Oh God," she said, with a groan. "Please don't tell me they fought! Oh shit- did he hit her or something?"

Paul shook his head vigorously. "No, no. It wasn't anything like...that." He gulped, then bit the inside of his cheek. He had to tell her the story, and he knew it. She had every bit as much right to know as he did. "One of my mates rode his bike past Cassidy's house this morning, and he saw the pair of them sitting out there together."

"Okay," Alley said slowly, drawing out the syllables. She felt a spark of jealousy shoot through her but she forced it away. She decided to listen to the full story before letting her feelings get the better of her.

Paul barred his teeth, not liking the words that he knew were going to be coming out of his own mouth in a few seconds. "And he said that the two of them looked awfully...cozy, if you know what I mean."

It took a while for it to process but when it did, Alley saw everything around her tinged in red. Rage was bubbling inside of her and it was all she could do not to reach out and throw the coffee table through the window. How could he do that to her? Well, she knew how he could do that to her but how could SHE do that?

"I'm gonna- I- FUCK!" she managed to scream, kicking at the coffee table leg.

Paul nodded, knowing exactly how she felt. "I...I thought they hated each other! And there they were, he said, hooking up on her front lawn." He winced even as the words came out of his mouth. He knew that he should have probably asked Cassidy if it was true before he told Alley, but screw her. If she wanted to screw around with his best mate, that was her decision.

"I don't fucking believe this!" Alley said angrily, once again taking her anger out on the coffee table. It pushed back this time, hitting the shelf with the small TV.

Paul fixed Alley with his usually wide eyed stare. "I'm sorry Alley...I know that you and John were...er...close. But I have to say, this has been known to happen." It didn't need to be said, but Paul also felt bad about the backstabbing Cassidy was giving her. He knew EXACTLY how that felt, and he thought that it was a silent understanding.

Alley nodded and took a deep breath, determined to release her anger. Paul was absolutely right- John was known to do this. But Cassidy? She was a loyal friend and she would never do something like this to her. Or so she had thought. Maybe all the "hate" she had for John was her hiding her true feelings for him. Thinking about how the person she thought was her best friend just stabbed her in the back, she felt her anger rise again. One moment she was staring at Paul and the next- she was half on top of him, her lips pressing against his.

Paul responded the natural way any male would; he kissed her back. His hands ran through her hair, his lips melded to hers. He let himself fall back onto the couch, Alley's body half on top of his own. But then he realized exactly what he was doing, and suddenly it all felt wrong to him. He pulled back, frowning deeply, trying to catch his breath. He knew that Cassidy had done something much, much worse than kiss John, but he couldn't help but feel like he had just betrayed her...even though they were still just friends. He swallowed roughly, his eyes wide and mortified, staring right into Alley's eclectically green ones.

Alley was staring right back, just as equally mortified as he was. She didn't know what had come over her and possessed her to kiss Paul. John and Cassidy betrayed them, yes, but it didn't make them any better to do the same thing. She ran a hand nervously through her hair and sat back against the arm of the couch. After a few seconds of silence, she whispered, "Shit."

**Catie AN: PAUL! YOU LITTLE BITCH! I feel like that should be the only AN, because it basically sums up everything. But I GUESS Addie might have something she would like to bore you all with, sooooo...?**

**Addie AN: Bore them? Oh please- they all wait to her****e from me because of my witty responses. (What the fuck am I talking about...?) Must be the nervousness. First day of school tomorrow. Doing my normal back to school movie marathon... gonna watch Nowhere Boy soon. Ok anyway- stuff related to this chapter... Catie's right, Paul's a little bitch! Oh yeah- and Alley too...**

**Catie AN: Guys...I'm afraid I have to tell you something really bad, and really scary. If you have nightmares tonight, I'm sorry. But the truth is...Addie? You know her? The only who eats babies and shits knives? She's...she's...OLD!**

**Addie AN: Hey hey hey now- I don't shit knives, I shit daggers. *sigh* Tis true, I'm old. But only like- not that old. I mean, I'm only gonna be 15 this October. Okay fine, I'm gonna be 20. But you know what? Being old has its perks... my first college class tomorrow is called "The 1960s". Should be fun! Ooh and guess what? I'm going to obsess a little so get ready- Sunday I went to the exhibition. It's like a big carnival type thing. Anyway, I had never been in my life before so I went. There was this history or rock and roll thing. I saw John's boots and his hat. Then I bought this mini replica Beatles guitar thing and the movie Backbeat (they were selling DVDs for 5 bucks!) And today my aunt came over and brought me this thing she bought at Niagara Falls. A pic of the Beatles with little guitar picks with their pictures on them on the picture. It's pretty damn fantasical. I felt the need to rant, sorry. **

**Catie AN: SNOREEEEEE!**

**Addie AN: Fuck yourself. And then John. And then yourself again. While I repeat what Alley does at the end of the chapter.**

**Catie AN: Remember how last chapter I said me and Addie weren't friends anymore? Yeah. We're not. 'Cause I'm not friends with cuntmunchers. Sorrrrrrrrrrrr-raaaaay.**

**BTW! Cuntmuchers is MY new word, so if you steal it I'll be PISSED!**

**Addie AN: Oh what a great word(!) Really, it's not stupid at all. Really. Just in case you haven't noticed, that was sarcasm. As in I was making fun of your new word.**

**Catie AN: Bitch, of all the things you could make fun of about me, you're gonna make fun of my new word? That's cold you...you...CUNTMUNCHER! Haha, that hurts, don't it, you Canadian Icicle!**

**Addie AN: Canadian Icicle? Really? That's the best you could come up with? Excuse me... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Sorry... I was on the floor in a fit of laughter. Don't even get me started on you! Some of your people still think we live in IGLOOS!**

**Catie AN: 'Your people'? Dude...Americans are people, too, ya know. We have FEELINGS! And sor-ry, but sometimes we don't like it when our co-authors threaten to make out with our husbands.**

**Addie AN: Yeah and so are Canadians! We aren't icicles! And for the record- WE DO NOT LIVE IN IGLOOS. And so what... I can make out with him if I want to. I mean, before you did bring up a valid point before. I am old. Older than you. Which therefore means- I knew who your husband was before you did!**

**Catie AN: ...you're a cuntmuncher. I have nothing else to say on the subject.**

**Addie AN: Whatever. Just review, people!**

**Catie AN: ... (I have nothing more to say on the subject, remember?)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Addie AN: Okay, okay, okay people, don't kill us. I mean, really, we were planning to go short this time but- umm- our chapter kind of exploded. And now it's long. So- get over it. Okay? Okay great. 8^) But anyway- sorry for the long wait for this chapter too- I mean, we got school and all that lovely crap. But anyway, this chapter is long enough so- READ.**

**Catie AN: HEY! What's with you and always trying to butt (hehe) me out of the ANs? I would also like to apologize for the long chapter length, and...it's all Addie's fault for not telling me when to stop, so blame her. Anyways, yeah...I guess you should read, huh? That would PROBABLY be the smart thing to do. Soooo...I guess...we'll...talk to you...at the...end...?**

...

Paul sat on his front steps, his guitar by his side. Last night, on the way home from Alley's, the whole kiss-situation had led him to think of a song. He slept on it, and the whole night he dreamed the tune. And while he knew that what he and Alley did wasn't exactly right, he also knew that Cassidy and John both had it coming. He scribbled some words in the notebook, humming under his breath.

"AYE! PAULIE!"

Paul looked up, grinning at the boy that was coming towards him. He was tall, with blonde hair and big blue eyes. He was the one that had tipped him off about Cass and John's little wrestling match.

"'Ello," Paul chirped. "I've been meaning to talk to you, mate. I wanted to say thanks for tipping me off last night."

His friend leaned against the handlebars, planting his feet on either side of the bicycle he was riding. "Aw, Paul, you know I was just kiddin', right? Just pokin' a bit of fun. Freckles and John was just talking, is all." He grinned, as though this was the joke of the century. Paul's heart plummeted.

Alley was walking fast, head down and her mind on one thing only. She looked like a woman on a mission and she didn't slow down until she reached her destination. From a few houses down she saw Paul sitting on his porch, talking to some blonde kid on a bike. Alley recognized him as one of Paul's friends from school- she felt her heart flutter weirdly when she saw the expression on Paul's face. Hurriedly, she walked up his driveway and stood in front of him, giving a polite head nod to the blonde kid.

Paul watched as his friend nodded to Alley, not inquiring anything about her presence. "Well, I gotta go," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Ivan said he wanted another word." And then he was off, pedalling as though his life depended on it.

Paul looked at Alley slowly, shame crawling around in his stomach and making him sick.

"Er...we have a slight problem."

"Slight?" Alley echoed, snickering at how simple that sounded. "I don't know about you, Paulie but I wouldn't classify what we did as a slight fucking problem!" She pounded up the stairs and plopped down angrily on the chair next to him.

Paul rested his elbows on his knees, his head falling into his palms with a slap. "They didn't even DO anything, Alley."

"What?" Alley said, her head snapping up suddenly. She shook her head, the small pang of guilt she felt before intensifying by 1000 now. "Are you fucking joking?"

"Me mate? The one that told me about the whole thing? Yeah...he said he was just kidding. In fact, they didn't do anything at all. They were just TALKING."

Alley groaned, putting her head in her hands. "No...no..." she said.

"Alley...we...we..." Paul couldn't even say it. His insides were twisting around with guilt. He had kissed the best friend of the girl who he was trying to win over. "If they find out about this," he practically whispered, "we are worse than dead."

"You got that right!" Alley replied, the guilt feeling like burning acid in her stomach. She had never done something like this before and she felt horrible about it. To betray her best friend and the boy she- the boy she felt for was unforgivable. "They're gonna band together to kill us!"

Paul shuddered violently, imaging what John would do to him if he found out. WHEN he found out was more like it. Because he had to face it; John ALWAYS found out. Always.

"We can't tell anyone. Not. A. Soul." Paul looked at her seriously. "This is bad, Al."

"I know," Alley said, letting out a frustrated breath. She couldn't get rid of the feeling in her stomach and it bugged her. "Paul- we had no right to do this."

"I know, I know." He let out a heavy breath, cupping his chin in his hands. "They didn't even..." No, he thought, stop it. You honestly THOUGHT they did. From all the evidence you had, the kiss was perfectly justifiable. "I mean, it's not like we did on purpose, though. It's not like I meant to kiss you back. It just sorta...happened."

"Bull shit," Alley said, looking at him straight in the eyes. "We were both upset because we thought they did something and we wanted to get back at them. You know as well as I do, it was on purpose- whether we thought about it or not." She sighed and then groaned, imagining the hurt look on Cassidy's face if she ever found out about this. It would be a big betrayal— maybe one their friendship couldn't survive. "Paul," she said, her gaze now trained on the sky.

"Even if they did do something, us kissing wouldn't be justified. Contrary to popular belief, two wrongs never make a right."

Paul stared at his hands. "I wish I could take it back. Why did I even believe him, anyways? I should have laughed in his face; Cassidy and John HATE each other. They would never do something like that." He squeezed his eyes shut. "They just can't find out, that's all."

"And what? We're supposed to walk around the rest of our lives knowing we did this? How the hell are we going to be able to face them?"

Paul looked over at her, his face dead serious. "It was a mistake. Maybe, when we feel the time is right..." He took a deep breath, shaking his head. The time would never be right, and he knew it. "We just have to pretend like nothing happened."

Alley sighed, nervously running a hand through her hair. "I guess. We don't have any other choice, do we?"

"We're not telling them," Paul repeated with finality. He gazed over at her, feeling entirely guilty but knowing that this was the only way that he could win Cass over still. "It's the only way."

"Let's make it official then," Alley said, holding out her hand for Paul to shake. "Let's make a pact that we will never tell them what we did."

Paul stuck his hand out, clasping it with hers. "Our little secret."

...

It was a while later and Alley was walking down the street with Cassidy, not having a direction

to go to but both just wanting to go somewhere and do something.

"So," Alley said after a while. "Where exactly are we going?"

Cass smiled, looking up at the sky. She'd been in a great mood for the past couple of days,

though she had no idea why. "Anywhere. Doesn't matter." She almost had to restrain herself

from skipping around and throwing flowers in the air. She grinned to herself at just the

thought.

Alley chuckled at her friend's happy and chipper mood. She herself wasn't fully happy at the

moment- she hadn't been in years- but she was all right; strangely comfortable is how she

would describe it. "Well, do you mind if anywhere ends up being a food joint? I'm fuckin'

starving!"

"Fries and a chocolate shake," Cassidy announced, suddenly craving her favourite foods. She

shared a knowing glance with Alley, then turned her feet in the direction of the little diner that

was near their houses.

"Yes!" Alley said, her mood improving at the prospect of getting food. It wasn't that she didn't

get fed at home- well she ate most of the time anyway- she just liked the diner atmosphere.

Seeing all the people get together, roll and roll blaring from the jukebox- it didn't get better

than that. She felt more at home in the diner than she did at her own house. "I want a

cheeseburger," she said, nodding her head. "A really big fucking cheeseburger! And a shitload

of fries!"

Cassidy laughed. "Definitely. Tonight, we feast."

"Awesome," Alley replied, a small smile on her face. "I wonder if we'll see John." She made a

face when she realized she had actually said that aloud.

"If we do," Cassidy said, completely unfazed by this, "we'll be ignoring him. Tonight, it's just

you and me, baby."

"Baby?" Alley echoed, raising her eyebrows at her Cassidy and laughing. "Am I fucking queer

now or something?"

Cassidy grinned, throwing herself at her tiny best friend and wrapping her arms around her.

"Ohhh yeah. Most definitely." She laughed, the sound loud and foreign to her ears. It made

her realize just how long it had been since she had been honestly and truly happy. "I

LURVVVVVV YOU!"

"Eww! God no!" Alley screamed in mock-terror, laughed and then ducked out of Cassidy's

grasp. She broke into a run and turned back only to say, "Come and get me ya weird fuck!"

Cassidy screamed with delight, chasing after Alley and emitting loud peals of laughter.

"C'mon, Alley!" she yelled, imitating John's voice. "C'mere and give us a kiss!"

"Now now!" Alley called back, running across the small park at the end of the road. "No dirty

talk like that!"

Cassidy's feet pounded hard against the pavement, her breath coming out in short little gasps.

She collapsed in a heap on the grass in the park suddenly, struggling to regain normal

breathing. "FINE!" she surrendered to Alley. "No more homo."

"HA!" Alley laughed, stopping and falling into a heap next to Cassidy. Sweat was falling down

her face and she could barely speak through her ragged breathing. "Thank the Lord! I could

NOT run anymore! I think I might barf up a lung. Maybe both of them."

"I'ma barf up my balls," Cassidy panted, then started giggling all over again. "PENIS!" she

yelled really loud, then let her entire body fall back into the grass. "Ahhhh...gotta love penises.

Unless of course...you know...you're a lesbian."

Alley burst into loud laughter, making it even harder to breathe. She pounded on the grass with

her fist from the force of the laughter coming from her. "Oh. My. God!" she managed through

laughter and laboured breathing. "Now... tell me- what the fuck do you know about dicks that

you loooooooooove them so much?" She raised her eye-brows and gave her a mock-stern stare.

"Have you and Paul been doing things, young lady?"

Cassidy turned her nose up at Alley. "That's between me, Paul, and Little Paul-sorry, I mean

Big Paul, thank you very much."

Alley snorted. "Oh Paul wishes! It's more like... you, Paul and baby Paul!"

"Um, more like me, Paul, and YOUR MOM!"

"Umm... eww?"

"Umm...delicious?" Cassidy snorted, shaking her head. "Okay, too far. Time for food." And

with that, she leapt to her feet, energy regained. She held her hand out for Alley.

Alley looked at Cassidy's hand for a moment, feeling a sudden pang of guilt from her friend's

gesture of kindness. Her mind flashed back to when she and Paul kissed. It was a stupid thing

to do, there was no feeling involved- both of them were angry at John and Cass. But now

Alley knew the truth—nothing had happened between her friend and John. And she had to pact

with Paul to never tell what they did. It just didn't change the fact that she still felt horrible

inside. But she couldn't dwell on it now so she pushed a smile onto her face and put her hand

into Cass', letting her pull her to her feet.

Maybe the next day would be better.

...

Cassidy walked into English class, her mind heavy and filled to the brim with thoughts. All

she wanted was to be left alone, and it was just her luck that she had arrived in Dickface's room

at this moment, where a wish like that could never be granted. She walked back the teacher in

question's desk, inclining her head ever so slightly and narrowing her eyes.

"Dickface," she greeted shortly, breezing past him.

"Cassidy," he answered, not looking up from the papers he grading. She continued to her seat,

dropping her bad down next to her with a thump and staring straight ahead, forgetting the fact

that Alley was already there, sitting next to her.

Alley cleared her throat a few seconds after Cass sat down. Not only did Cass not say anything

to her but she just stared ahead, a weird-ish expression on her face. The throat clearing didn't

work so Alley poked her in the shoulder and snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Cass?

Hello! Earth to Cass!"

Cassidy roved her head to the side, slightly agitated that she had been disturbed out of her

thoughts. "What?" she hissed. Then, upon seeing who it was, apologized quickly. "Oh, sorry,

Al. I was just...thinking."

"I reckon you were!" Alley said, leaning back against the wall and pulling her legs up towards

her and wrapping her arms around them. "What's so serious?"

"Nothing," Cassidy said, even though this was the opposite of the truth. The real truth would

be that she had been thinking a LOT about her family lately, and the whole Cecilia being

perfect thing. Cass wished that she could be like her, but she only wished this secretly. If she

like Cecilia, Mam would probably love her, and Da would laugh more when she did funny

things. But this was the way she was, and it bothered her more than anything else in the world.

She just felt like...letting out her frustrations.

"Nothing?" Alley echoed, intently studying her friend's facial expressions. She looked angry

and upset and there WAS definitely something bothering her. But she knew the way she felt

when she was angry and she knew that pushing wasn't the best answer. So she opted for

making her laugh instead. "Watch this," she said, sitting straight in her chair. "Hey Dickface!

What happens to people who deface school property?"

Cassidy was pulled out her thoughts, a light smile creeping on her face as she watched

Dickface frown deeply. "Well, Miss Diamond, I think you would be better served to tell us

about that, wouldn't you?"

"Oh," Alley said, shooting Cass a smirk before continuing. "Gladly, Mr. Dickface. You see, I

was bored waiting for class to start and I- well, you can see for yourself." Alley nodded her

head towards the top of her desk which was covered in weird drawings, obscene words and

suggestions plus a few song lyrics.

Dickface leapt to his feet, his ears practically perking up. He marched over to Alley's desk,

wrenching it towards him and peering down at the different scribbles. "You did this?" he

asked quietly. His voice was deadly and low. Cass started to giggle.

Alley didn't flinch. She grinned. "It's got potential don't you think?"

He gulped aggressively, leaning down once more to read the few legible words. "Very much

so. I like your word choice on this one here: _Cassidy's eyes sparkle like sapphires in the sun, _

_her hair cresting waves, silkily spun."_ He looked up with a sneer, his beady little eyes darting

between the two girls. "I never knew you two felt this strongly for each other." Cass

immediately turned a dark, almost purple red. Who the FUCK would write something like that

about her? She didn't know any other Cassidy at her school, so it must be about her, right?

"Ah no, no," Alley countered without skipping a beat and her smirk firmly in place. "I was

merely showing Cassidy my theory of how she gets top grade in this class- not just because

she is smart but because of the teacher's strange infatuation with her." Leaning forward, she

grinned right up at him. "Do you have any idea who I mean?" She got a sudden idea then.

"Or..." she said, cocking her head to the side thoughtfully, "Maybe some other student with an

infatuation with Ms. Farrell here wrote it." She whispered at Cassidy, "Oh say, a mister Paul

McCartney?"

Cass's face drained of the red color it had contained a second ago. Please, God, she begged,

tell me that Alley did NOT just say that out loud. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to get

over herself. Once she was okay, her eyelids sprang back open, and her wit returned. "Paul

McCartney? Never heard of him." She turned to looked at Dickface, her eyes imploring. "I'm

sorry, Mr. Dickface, sir. I can't help it if my hair is like a cresting wave or whatever the hell

you said. That doesn't change the fact that I'm only fifteen and you're like...what? Sixty?"

"Thirty-seven," he hissed back through barred teeth. "And the both of you need watch your

mouths. I AM a teacher, you know. And as for this Dickface business-"

"From the looks of you, it ain't doing any business," Alley broke in, her smirk twitching ever

so slightly with the urge to laugh. This time she was holding it in but pretty soon, she would be

raging with laughter like the last encounter with Dickface.

Cassidy snorted really loudly, and the entire class, who had been chatting lightly, turned to

look at them. They were all ready for Cassidy and Alley vs. Dickface Take Two.

"Watch your mouth!" the man of the hour spat, point wildly at Alley. "You have NO respect.

You DARE sit there, insulting me left and right. You think you're going to pass this class?

You think-"

"But surely," Cassidy interrupted, smiling lightly. "you'll pass me? If only just to watch my

eyes sparkle like sapphires in the sun, right?"

Alley was biting on her lip the whole time and now, her laughter burst out of her, loud and

long. After a few seconds, she stopped and took a deep breath, staring defiantly up at Dickface.

"I have respect but not for you, DICKFACE," she said, making her words sharp and clear.

"And yes, I do dare sit here and insult you because quite frankly? Its fun and it pretty much

makes my day. But you know what?" She stood now, looking up at the tall man and still

staring him down defiantly. "I will pass this class. Because I do all the work and I get top

fucking grades so don't you go around threatening me you sweater vest-wearing queer!" She

plopped back into her chair, a little winded from her speech. But she felt great.

"...and you're ugly," Cassidy added to Alley's speech, feeling the need to make her opinion

known on that one. Dickface glared at both of them, looking speechless. "That's...it..." he

breathed, his chest heaving. "Both of you...DETENTION!"

"Oh! Oooh!" Alley said in an exaggerated tone, putting a hand over her heart. "Detention? Oh

please, no! No, no, no! Don't send me to that horrid place! NO!" Chuckling, she shook her

head and raised her eye-brows up at the teacher. "Detention, really? That's the best you got?

God- and here I thought we'd be having some fun!"

Dickface lowered his face to Alley's, breathing deeply with wildly dancing eyes. "We'll see

how much you like it AFTER the fact." He turned to Cassidy, his expression still the same.

"And I know you have your two cents, Cassidy," he sneered, "but you're going, too." Cassidy,

however, had lost her will to be Alley-ish. She'd never in her LIFE gotten detention. He

straightened, then turned his back on the girls. "Go. Now."

"Okay, sure," Alley replied, not in the least bit convinced or scared of him. Growing up with

Royce had pretty much taken the fear gene right out of her and replaced it with the need to be

defiant towards authority. With a smile on her face she stood, grabbed her bag and headed

towards the door, waving as she did. "See ya, Dickface, it's been gear, really!"

Dickface watched with cruel satisfaction as the two girls got up, heading toward the front of

the class. He completely disregarded what that Alley bitch said, instead smiling eerily.

"Goodbye, ladies. I'll be placing a call with both of your parents, of course. I'm sure Royce

will love to hear about how you're failing my class. We go back SO far."

Cass's eyes widened, and she spun around so fast, to the other's she appeared to be a blur.

"You're sick," she moaned, thoughts of trouble far from her mind. She was SURE from his

tone that Dickface knew about Royce's daily beating of Alley. "You're evil, cruel, and

sadistic...fuck, you're such a poor excuse for a human being it makes me sick to my stomach."

Alley put her hand on Cassidy's shoulder and pulled her back towards the door. She felt

Dickface's comment strike her like a bolt of lightning and it made the slightest bit of fear

creep up into her stomach. But she was determined not to let it show.

"It's fine," she whispered in Cass' ear. "Let it go." To Dickface, she gave an evil look and

simply said, "Fuck you, Dickface." Then she felt a smile creep onto her face and she added,

"Go ahead and call Royce. It's nothing new to me. But you better keep an eye open- I'll send

John Lennon after you!" And with that, she spun on her heel and walked confidently out of the

classroom.

Cassidy wasn't so quick to follow. She watched Alley go out the door, and she felt the classes

eyes upon her, wondering what she was going to do next. She swivelled her head to the side,

looking at Dickface out of the corner of her eye. "If you know," she practically whispered,

"then I only wish the same to you."

And with that, she followed Alley out the door, shaking her head slowly and taking careful,

measured steps.

...

It was the most beautiful day there had been in a while. The sun was out and shining, there was cool, soft breeze, and through Cassidy's open window she could hear little kids playing in the street. She lay on her bed, book propped up on her knees, and smiled gently to herself. Life was good sometimes.

"Cassidy? We're going to take your sister to dance rehearsal! The front door is open."

Cass grinned to herself. Excellent. Could this day GET any better? BOTH parents gone, evil little sister gone, beautiful weather, and a good book.

"Okay, I'll just be here." She wasn't even going to be difficult, she was in THAT good of a mood.

A stronger gust of wind tickled the hair around her shoulder, blowing a shiny, curly tendril into her face. She calmly smoothed it back behind her ear, suddenly in a great mood to listen to some music. Marking her page, she threw her book to the side, swung her legs off the bed, and pattered over to the small, black radio that was resting on her dresser.

The station she had been listening to previously was currently blasting a fast, upbeat song that perfectly matched her mood. She didn't know the lyrics, but the tune was catchy. She cranked the volume all the way up, the music tinkling out her bedroom window and into the autumn sky. The beat was making her excited and happy, her head and toes beginning to bop with the rhythm. And then, when she couldn't hold it in any longer, she threw her arms over her head and started full out dancing.

Since there was no one there to see her, she figured that she should hold nothing back. She bounced around her room, sliding on the hardwood floor with her stocking-feet and shimmying and shaking her hips. She hopped up onto her bed, twisting her legs into shapes and laughing in a carefree way. Then she leapt down from the bed, shaking her head and giggling as her curls bounced around. By the time the chorus came around, she already knew all the words. She screamed them, still dancing and prancing around the room, a grin plastered on her face. She hadn't felt so…young, she guessed, in years.

"Ahem."

Cassidy froze, her chest heaving with the force of her panting breaths. Someone…was…there…? She turned slowly, expecting the worst…and finding it.

"Nice moves, Freckles," Paul smirked, leaning against her door jam and crossing his arms.

Cass gulped, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "Better than any of yours, I bet," her mouth said, though she couldn't exactly remember THINKING those words.

"You're on."

And then he took her by the hand, twirling her around the room and chuckling. Cassidy had never been more charmed.

...

Cassidy stared at her hands, forcing herself to tune out of the conversation at hand. If she had to listen to her Mam bitch and moan ONE MORE TIME in that cheery, fake, perfect voice of hers, she was literally going to spontaneously combust.

"…and if you think a young lady such as yourself should be inviting strange boys into the house when she is ALONE, then you've got another thought coming!"

She slowly roved her eyes up to her mother's matching ones, her jaw set. "You left the fu—you left the door open. Wide open. I was up in my room, how was I supposed to know that he was gonna come in?"

Kendra Farrell smoothed her dress down carefully, tucking her napkin around her thighs and picking up her fork and knife daintily. "You could have told him to leave."

"I could have, except I didn't want him to. So that would be counterproductive, wouldn't it?"

Mam opened her mouth to say something back, but Cecilia interrupted. "I've been elected president of my class, Mam." She grinned, displaying her mouthful of perfect, gleaming white teeth. "It was unanimous."

Mam reached forward, resting her hand gently on top of Cecilia's. "Darling, that's wonderful!" She looked at Cassidy out of the corner of her eye, a grin plastered on her face but disappointment glinting in her eyes. "I got a phone call from your English teacher today. Oh, what was his name?"

She knows all of Cecilia's teacher's names, Cass thought bitterly. "Dickface."

Mam fixed her eldest daughter with a steely eye. "Ah, you're right. DickSON."

Da, who had been quiet this entire time, spoke up now. "Mr. Dickson said that he had to give you detention. Any idea why that would be?"

Cass swallowed. Shit. Here it came. "He was being difficult."

"Oh," her father said, his eyebrows rising in surprise, "HE was being difficult?"

Cassidy looked down at her untouched food, blinking rapidly. Think of a good excuse, her mind urged her, hurry…

"He's an asshole."

Wow. That was great. JUUUUUUST great. Mam and Da are SURE to eat that one right up!

"Watch your mouth, Missy," Mam chirped, spearing a green bean on the end of her fork and raising it to her lips. "And eat your vegetables."

"I'm allergic to green beans," Cass deadpanned. Her only mother forgot the ONE thing that made her swell up like a balloon. What a nice, caring family she had.

"But Cassidy, don't you understand?" Da urged, ignoring the green bean discussion. "Mr. Dickson said that if you keep this up, he's going to drop the behavioural aspect of your grade. He says your work is phenomenal, but you just lack the…er…initiative to succeed."

"Da…I'm top my class," Cass said with exasperation layered in her voice. "Why can't that be good enough for you?"

"You can always push yourself farther," Mam cut in. "Look at Cecilia—is she not top of her class? And captain of the girls' volleyball team? And now president of her class? And look at her," she added, throwing Cecilia a warm smile, "she's so beautiful to top it all off!"

Cassidy felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes. I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, she chanted to herself. Her da looked down at his steak, which he was in the process of cutting. A line formed between his eyebrows, as though he were angry about something. But, as usual, he didn't say anything; he was a quiet man by nature.

"Why can't you be more like your sister?" Mam asked, her lips pressing together in a tight line. Beside her, Cecilia was practically glowing with her perfection.

"You want me to be like her?" Cass asked in a dangerously low voice. "Fine, then. You can have TWO lying, bitchy, whore daughters." And with that, she stood up, knocking her napkin off her lap and making Da look up in concerned surprise.

"Cassidy—" her mother began, but she was cut off.

"Fuck you."

And with that, she marched out the door, slamming it with a house-shaking rattle.

**... Meanwhile ...**

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Alley groaned inwardly, looking up from the book she was reading. She had hoped to have a pleasant day today, just lying lazily on her bed and getting lost in the world of fiction. But she should have known better; no one could ever relax in her house for too long. She put her book down next to her and swung her legs over the side of the bed until she was sitting upright, staring straight into the eyes of her step-brother, Garrett. He was leaning against the door frame, staring at her with a strange expression on her face.

"I'm reading," Alley said, deadpan. She was sitting tensely, ready to bolt if needed.

Garrett was Royce's son, yes, but he wasn't abusive—well, at least to her. He seemed to be following in his father's footsteps though. He dropped out of school, drank and gambled and he liked to beat up people for fun. Alley would never forgive him for jumping John—hell, she almost attacked him when she found out. But Garrett was a big guy, standing at 6'2 and enough strength to kill with his bare hands. He looked like your typical Irish 23 year-old with red hair, green eyes and freckles. He may have looked innocent but he could be a mean son of a bitch.

"What do you want, Garrett?" she asked when he remained silent.

"I just came to warn you."

"Warn me?" Alley repeated, feeling her stomach tighten in dread. This could only mean thing now. Garrett usually came to 'warn' her when Royce was on the warpath. But it wasn't because he cared for her or because he harboured any feelings towards her—it was mostly because he enjoyed seeing her squirm; as long as it wasn't him incurring the wrath.

"Yeah," Garrett replied, a slow and evil smile spreading across his face. "Turns out the school principal called. Something about a Mr. Dickson…."

_Fuck! Shit! Fuck! AHHHHH!_

Alley felt the dread in her stomach explode and she stood, heading for the door. She was determined to make it out of the house before Royce could come up and get her. As she passed by Garrett, he chuckled at her and she growled at him. Slowly, she walked down the narrow upstairs hallway, trying not to make any kind of noise. Once she had gotten down the carpeted stairs successfully, she made her move for the front door. She was nearly there when she heard a noise behind her and being her stupid, curious self, she turned.

No one was there.

The curtains from the window rustled slightly and she figured the wind must have knocked one of her mother's knickknacks from the shelf. But when she took a step forward to look, she found nothing on the floor. Hearing a weird clinking noise now, she walked further into the house to investigate. When she walked into the kitchen, she felt a weird mix of relief and half-shock at what she was looking at. She watched as her mother, Mary stood at the kitchen counter, slowly stirring something in a plastic green bowl. She looked tired and pale and her once vibrant green eyes looked dull and lifeless. Her dark hair hung in clumps around her face and she wore nothing but a tattered bathrobe and grey slippers. Alley always felt sad when she looked at her. Once, her mother was a beautiful woman, happy and full of life. Of course that was when Alley's father was around and they had a normal, apple pie life.

"Mom?" she asked, taking a step-forward. "What are you doing?"

"What?" Mary looked at her tiredly as if not fully understanding what was going on around her. She was on countless medications and drank alcohol like it was going out of style. She stopped stirring and just stood there; staring.

Alley sighed. "Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Oh—" Mary looked around like she was trying to remember. "I was just—making something for your father."

"My father?" Alley felt her jaw clench in anger. She hated when Royce was referred to as her father. She did not want to be linked to the man in any way. "He is not my father!"

Mary didn't answer. She picked up the wooden spoon and began stirring again. Alley was about to say something else when the backdoor opened and Royce walked in. He slammed the door loud enough to rattle the glass. Alley noticed that he held a long wooden board in his hand and it jump started her heart; she could only imagine what he was planning on doing with that.

"I'm going to kill you!" he screamed, spit flying from his mouth like a rabid dog's. His face was reddened with anger and he took a step forward.

Alley didn't say anything, her feet took charge of her and she turned suddenly, running towards the front door. She was sure Royce would catch her like he always did but he stumbled and almost fell, giving her the time she needed. Hurriedly, she pulled open the front door and ran out, slamming it behind her. For a few moments, she leaned against it, trying to catch her breath. She was thanking God that she made it out the door this time before Royce could grab her. Of course, when she came back home, he'd probably attack her then but she figured that postponing was better than nothing. Sighing, she walked down her driveway and turned onto the sidewalk, stopping when she saw Cassidy coming out of house.

"Hey Cass!" she called and ran to meet her. She skidded to a stop in front of her friend, almost crashing into the mailbox that stood at the edge of the grass. "What's going on?"

Cass looked up, still fuming from her recent dinner-scene. "Ah, Alley. I was just..." And then

an idea started forming in her head. Alley hadn't met little Georgie Harrison yet, had she? "I

was just goin' for a little visit with my friend George. Care to join me?"

"George?" Alley said, her head cocking to the side as she tried to remember if she knew a

George or not. After a few seconds, she decided that she didn't. "I don't reckon I know him.

But uh- yeah! I'll go anywhere at this point. Anywhere but home, anyway."

Cass nodded. "I know that one." She started walking down the street, her feet already

knowing where she was headed. "Mam and Da found out about detention. Apparently, Ole

Dickface decided to give them a call."

"No kidding," Alley said with a somewhat bitter chuckle. "Why do you think Royce was

coming after me with a 2-by-four?"

Cassidy gave her an alarmed look. "Shit. I just got the old 'Why can't you be more like your

sister'?"

"Yeah well- Royce likes to run thing differently. Relax," she said when she saw Cass'

expression. She tried her best to give her a reassuring one. "He didn't get a chance, I ran out of

the door."

Cassidy got onto the bus in silence, paying her and Alley's fee without even thinking about it.

Sure, she hated her family. But at least Alley's family gave her ATTENTION. At least they

weren't perfect, and they didn't expect her to be every single second of the day.

"Thanks Cass," Alley said with an amused smile as she sat down next to Cass on the bus.

"Although I'm not poor."

"I know, I know." Cassidy took a deep breath, leaning against the back of her seat. Something

was really bothering her, something that had never really bothered her before. When her mam

was listing all the great things Cecilia was that she was NOT, she had mentioned that her sister

was beautiful. Which was the God's honest truth, but the ways she said it...? "Alley, can I ask

you a question?"

Alley was looking out of the bus window, watching the sights go by. She always loved riding

the bus and staring out the window as it drove along. She would think about things or just let

her mind wander. She was half-lost in thought when she heard Cass' voice. "Huh, what? Oh,"

she said, finally understanding what she heard. "Yeah, sure." She turned away from the

window, leaned against the seat and waited.

"Am I..." Cass took a deep breath, before for the first time in a long time, she was embarrassed

to say something. "Am I...pretty?" She blushed, immediately looking away from Alley and

out the window.

"What?" was all that Alley could say. She had never heard a more random question in her

entire life. "Cass- you're-" It was embarrassing to talk about things like this with your best

friend and she grimaced, trying to get the words out in a way that wouldn't sound weird. "Cass,

you're beautiful. Look in the fuckin' mirror!" She chuckled. "Or better yet, look at the ugly

sack of shit sitting next to you!"

Cassidy grimaced. "Aww, shut up. You're pretty and you know it." She looked down at her

hands, clasping them in her lap. "If...if I really am-you know-pretty and stuff, why don't the

boys like me like they like you?" And by boys, it was PRETTY obvious exactly who she met.

But she wasn't gonna say SHIT out loud, just in case it got back to Paul.

Alley shook her head and grinned. "First of all- what, are you fucking blind? Since when do

boys come after me? Ronnie Hartman who pretty much wanted to rape me doesn't count!

And-" she leaned toward Cass, making sure her voice was low, "Paul likes you. Deal with it!"

Cassidy gulped, shaking her head. "You don't understand. I mean, it's not like you and John.

You two are passionate, hands on people. I'm...he's...it's just different, okay?" She scrunched

up her face, going back to the first part of what Alley said. "And don't even GIVE me that shit.

How about John Lennon, aka one of the hottest boys we know?"

"Excuse me?" Alley said, gasping loudly and holding her hand over her heart. "Did you just

call John Lennon hot?" She turned to look out the window and gasped again in fake shock. "LOOK! PIGS ARE FLYING! OH MY GOD" She laughed loudly at the people who were giving her dirty looks and stuck her tongue out at them. Then she suddenly turned serious. "Passionate and hands on? I don't know- maybe. We didn't do anything other than kiss. And it's not like we'll ever be together, you know? We aren't relationship-type people. I'm sure he still sees other girls- or- sleeps with them at least. It doesn't matter. What does matter, missy, is that you and Paul LOVE each other but just won't do anything!"

Cassidy rolled her eyes. "Pig are not flying, those are just pigeons. I'm not going to deny the

obvious...then again, there isn't a whole lot of stock here to choose from, so he's got that

advantage." She waved her hands in front of her face, as though to clear the board. "But

anyways, I don't love Paul. I've barely known if more than three weeks!"

"Ever heard of love at first sight?" Alley said, giving her friend a smack on the arm. She

sighed, not being able to hide the smile that crept on her face when she thought of John.

Clearing her throat, she made her expression somewhat serious. "You like Paul," she said

bluntly. "And the sooner you both admit it, the sooner you can move on with your romance!"

Cassidy frowned, not letting her get away with this one. "You aren't me, so how would YOU

know if I liked him? And you're not him, either, so how would you know that he liked me?"

The bus rolled to a start, and Cassidy stood up, her features hard. "C'mon, George lives this

way."

"Oh please!" Alley said, following Cassidy off the bus and down the narrow road. She

stretched and nearly tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. "Cass, listen to me, will ya?" she

said, carefully watching where she stepped this time. "It's not rocket science and you don't

have to be a goddamn psychic to see it. You two are meant for each other. So get over it,

already!"

Cassidy had nothing more to say on the subject, other than, "You don't know." She walked

down the sidewalk in silence, twisting her hands together. She wasn't in love with Paul, she

told herself. That was COMPLETELY ridiculous. She stopped outside a tall brick building,

recognizing it though only having gone there a few times.

"Whatever," Alley said under her breath, stopping to take in the building in front of her. She

never really had reason to come by this part of town so there were no familiar surroundings.

She turned to Cassidy and said, "So- who's this George fella?"

"George Harrison," Cass said as she walked up to the door. "He's in love with my sister.

Needless to say, we talk a lot." She reached forward, rapping the door sharply with her

knuckles. Within seconds, the door was pulled open by a skinny boy, no more than a few

inches taller than Cassidy. He had thick, dark hair and a full brow. "George!" Cass exclaimed

with a smile.

Alley smiled when she saw this George characters. He was tall (although most people were to

her) and lanky with the most beautiful head of hair she had ever seen- even the most thickest

eye-brows she'd ever seen. Smiling, she stuck out her hand toward him. "Hi. Alley."

George glanced at Cassidy first, then at Alley. "Er..." He wasn't exactly used to girls coming

to his house to WILLINGLY meet him. "Hi. I'm George..." He blushed and looked down,

wondering why the hell Cass was here.

Cassidy grinned from ear to ear, elbowing Alley. "Isn't he just the cutest thing?"

"Yeah!" Alley said, chuckling at George's shyness and the way he was blushing. "But don't

give the kid such a hard time!"

George looked up, glad that for ONCE, someone was defending him. "Yeah, Cassidy. Leave

me alone." He grinned that adorable, crooked smile, making Cass practically coo.

"Oh, you like it and we both know it. Can you come out?"

"Yeah, George, can you come out?" Alley echoed, grinning at him. She took a liking to him

immediately. She felt like he was the little brother type and she had the urge to ruffle his hair

and squeeze him. He was so adorable!

George glanced behind him, then back at the two girls. He couldn't believe his luck...two

pretty, older girls wanted HIM to go out with them. He grinned shyly. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure

that'll be alright."

Cass clapped her hands in excitement. "YAY! For once, we'll be with each other NOT

because of Cecilia."

"George," Alley said, putting her hand on her hips and staring up at him. "Why in hell do you

like the bitch?" She turned to Cass and quickly added, "No offense."

George shrugged, turning around and easing the door shut. Then they started walking in the

direction of the park. "I dunno. She's beautiful...and so smart...and-"

Cassidy cut him off, a disgruntled look on her face. "Please, stop. I don't need to hear this all

over again."

"Yeah, seriously, George," Alley agreed, a grimace of her own forming on her face."Although-

- I bet Cass would probably disgust you with her love for Paul talk."

George stifled his snicker with his palm, raising his eyebrows at her. "'Love for Paul'? As

in...McCartney? I bet he'd LOVE to hear that."

Cassidy cast him an alarmed look. "No, George, seriously I don't. Alley just thinks she's

knows everythin'."

"I do know everything," Alley replied, a total look of seriousness on her face. She spoke to

George, a smile appearing on her face as she did. "Really, George- Paul would actually LOVE

to hear that. Seeing as he feels the same way!"

George chuckled with his already deep voice. However, he knew that he could never tell

Cassidy OR this new Alley person how Paul really felt for Cass. He would be dead. D-E-A-

D. "Ahh, come on now. They're just friends." Cassidy pointed at Alley triumphantly.

"HA! There ya go. George has spoken, and now it is final."

"Or- George could be covering for Paul," Alley counted, smirking and shaking her head a

little. "You know how friends are!" Alley grimaced inside, realizing how hypocritical that

sounded. But she still had guilt over kissing Paul and repeatedly trying to get her point across

about them loving each other was her subconscious way of relieving it.

"Yeah, I do," Cassidy said, shooting Alley a look. "They're stupid and think they know

everything about you when they don't." Then a sickening thought occurred to her. What if she

were Cecilia. Or-worse-what if Cecilia felt the way that Cassidy did about Paul? She would

do something about, there was no question in Cass's mind. George glanced over at Alley,

wondering how she knew so much without really even knowing it. He didn't say anything,

merely dropping his gaze to his feet and trying not to make eye contact with either of the girls

walking on either side of him.

"Yeah well..." Alley said, shrugging and kicking at a stick on the road. She sighed, thinking

about her feelings towards John. She may have been able to make fun of Cass and Paul and

how much they loved each other but- she felt the exact same way towards John. There was

definitely something there and the part that killed her inside was that she knew they would

never have a true relationship. They both weren't those type of people- as much as she kind of

wanted to be. She sighed again, doing what she usually did and buried her problems deep

within her, ignoring them.

"Would you still be friends with me if I only spoke with dolphin sounds?" Cassidy asked

suddenly, cocking her head and looking at both of her friends.

"Yes," George answered without thinking. "But it might be a little hard to have those intense

conversations."

Alley looked up, a quizzical expression on her face. She couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Where in hell did that come from?"

"I want to know how much you REALLY like me. So?" she urged, ignoring her friend's

laughter.

"Well," Alley said, pretending to think deeply about it. She blew out a breath finally and

nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Just don't annoy me with the dolphin squeaks too much."

Cass nodded. "That's understandable, I guess."

It was quiet for a second, and then George spoke up. "Would you still be friends with me if I

married Marilyn Bent?"

"No," Cass said, completely serious.

"Fuck no, Georgie!"

"Just wondering!"

"Why?" Alley asked, her nose crinkling in disgust. "She's a slutty bitch!" She raised her eye-

brows in an attempt to look tough. "We could kick her ass, right Cass,?" she said, elbowing

her friend.

Cassidy suddenly remembered when Marilyn Bent kicked the shit out of her, and she

subconsciously reached up to touch her still bruised eye. She covered it every day with liberal

amounts of makeup, and so far she had managed to sneak by Alley.

"Right..."

George knew. George knew ALL about what that evil bitch did to his Cassidy. He had heard someone talking about it in his History class, and from what he heard, it was pretty bad.

"What?" Alley said, picking up the looks on both Cassidy and George's faces. She saw the shift

in expression and mood in Cassidy when Marilyn Bent was mentioned. "There's something I

don't know about." It was a statement, not a question.

Cass looked down. "I knew you would get mad." George didn't say anything, feeling that it

wasn't his place to say.

"Get mad about what?" Alley asked, trying to keep her voice even but her tone betraying her.

She hesitated, looking anywhere but at Alley. "Remember how Marilyn was...er...mad at me?"

"Yeah," Alley said. She felt nervous tension fill her, fearing the way this was going.

"She... " Cassidy didn't quite know how to say it without making it sound worse than it really

was. She looked to George for help.

"She beat Cassidy up after school one day."

"Wh-wha-?" Alley tried to say, her mouth hanging open in shock. She felt anger grip her

tightly inside and she had to restrain herself from lashing out. "What the fuck, Cass? Why

didn't you say anything? I would have ripped her a new one. Several!"

Cassidy didn't look at her. "Two wrongs don't make a right," she said quietly.

"Who gives a fuck!" Alley said, balling her hands into fists so tightly they turned white. "At least she'd learn her lesson and not mess with you!"

Cass shook her head slowly. "Please...just stop. It's over now."

"I could still kick her ass," Alley said, choosing not to hear her.

"You could, but that's not the point." She sighed, looking at George. "Do you SEE what I have to put up with?"

Alley let out a breath, forcing her anger to drain away. She gave Cass a look. "Now what's

that's supposed to mean?"

George looked over at her, answering for Cass. "You're difficult."

"How am I difficult?" Alley asked, throwing her arms up in the air in exasperation. "All

because I wanna kick the ass of the bitch that beat up my friend?"

"Yes," Cass and George said at the same time.

"Well you guys suck!" Alley said, crossing her arms and falling back in step with them. She

looked ahead and walked in silence.

Cass snorted, elbowing George and grinning. "Someone's moody."

"Ahh go fuck each other!" Alley mumbled at them.

"Gladly," Cassidy replied swiftly, then tackled George to the ground. He was bright red, trying

not to touch any part of her, but she wrapped her arms and legs around his skinny little body

and giggled like crazy.

"Gerrof me!" he gasped, only making Cass laugh harder.

Alley couldn't help it, she turned in time to see Cass tackle George and the truly frightened

expression on his face made her burst into laughter. She felt sorry for George, who looked like

he was about to explode like a bright red cherry tomato.

"Come on you two, break it up!" she said and helped pull both of them to their feet. George

looked like a scared rabbit and Cassidy was smiling triumphantly. Alley rolled her eyes and said, "Let's go," and the three walked the rest of the way to the park, laughing and goofing around like three old friends.

...

The night was dark and a little bit chilly but the stars were brighter than anything John and Paul had ever seen before. Coming up to the top of the hill in the park was something John always did- another place he came to be alone and think. If it was during the day, he'd sit at the very top and watch the people on the street below going about their busy lives. And at nighttime, he would lay back on the cool grass and watch the stars as they glittered and gleamed in the pitch black night sky. It was calming and another escape from the toils of everyday life. Sometimes Paul would come with him and they'd lie there together, smoking and talking about music, their dreams or whatever came to mind.

They were there now, watching the stars in the clear night sky and passing their last cigarette back and forth. All track of time had been lost and neither of them felt like moving or going any other place. This was one of those moments that you don't want to end; that you would keep going forever if you could. It was calm and peaceful and for a rare moment, it felt like all the troubles of life drifted away. It was only John, Paul and the gleaming stars; glittering like their future spread in front of them.

Paul pointed the burning ember of his cigarette at the stars, smiling faintly. "Wonder how

many of them are up there," he thought aloud. "Wonder if we'll ever know."

"Maybe," John said, grabbing the cigarette from his friend and taking a thoughtful drag, pausing to blow out the smoke before handing it back. "One day. If we ever make it up there."

Paul turned his head slightly, looking at his friend out of the corner of his eye. "I will, I dunno about you, mate." He chuckled, letting John know that he was only kidding. Then he looked back up at the sky, sighing. "Isn't it funny to think that one day, we could be looking up at these same exact stars, but sitting on the opposite side of the world. Just...imagine."

"Imagine," John said, thinking about what Paul just said. He always imagined getting out of this place, going somewhere else- living like someone else. "Paul," he said suddenly, still looking up at the sky. "Do you ever think of dying?"

Paul's eyes went out of focus as he considered this. Did he ever think of dying? Sure, he thought about it. But it wasn't something that was constantly nagging at him. "Not really. I've thought about it before, but I think...I think death, and aging and all of that, I think it's something to look forward to. I can't wait to be eighty years old, surrounded by my grandchildren and telling them stories about the glory days." He smiled, elated with the thought. He loved kids, and he knew that one day he wanted some of his own. Not any time soon, of course, but still. "I hope that I'm nice and ripe when it's my time."

"Yeah," John said; a wistful smile on his face. He was glad it was nighttime and Paul couldn't see his face. His feelings were betraying him at that moment. Throughout his entire life, he had this feeling in his gut- a feeling that he couldn't get rid of. And it wasn't your run of the mill normal paranoid thought- he felt it in his bones. "I don't think I'll make it that far."

Paul frowned deeply, this news disturbing him greatly. "What the fuck are you talking about, John?"

"I'm not going to be nice and ripe," John said, using what Paul had just said. He shrugged, sounding non-chalant as usual. If he didn't control himself, he might lash out or even cry. "I'm not going to be an old man. I won't make it past 40. I just know it."

Paul sat up suddenly, as though John had just said that he planned on killing himself or something. "John, mate, you can't think like that!" He ran a hand quickly through his hair, this whole thing making him uneasy. "What about your wife? And kids? What about THEIR kids? Don't you wanna live to see your grandchildren?"

"Of course," John said seriously. He wanted to live and die an old man in his rocking chair so bad. But there was something inside of him- more than just a silly fear- that told him that he was going to die young. He was learning not to fight it anymore and to just except it. It made life easier when you didn't have to worry. "It's not like I'm going to fucking pop myself off, Macca! It's just-" He shrugged, struggling to think of the right way to put it. "I just know it. I feel it."

Paul wouldn't stand for this. "Well, I won't let it happen. I'll stalk you day and night on the fortieth year of your life, and if ANYTHING happens to you...no. It won't. I. Re. Fuse."

John chuckled at this but inside he felt a pang of happiness. It was nice to know that you had someone that really cared about you. Grinning he turned to his friend, "What if I have a heart attack, Paulie? You gonna stalk my organs too?"

"I'll monitor your diet," he said at once, determined for some odd reason that John NOT die at 40. "No bacon. Sorry."

"And what if I have some weird disease and my body just stops working?"

Paul's mouth hung open as he thought about this. "Then...I...will...uhhhhh-OHHH! WAIT! I bet in the future, they're gonna have machines that can keep you alive even when you're basically dead. So even if your body stops working, I'll hook you up to that machine and there ya go. Life."

"Oh gee thanks," John said sarcastically. "Why don't you just stuff me and keep me in your house?"

"I could do that," Paul reasoned, cocking his head to the side. "I bet you'd make an excellent mantle piece." In his mind's eye, be pictured his future home (the same one he always had: HUGE, open and breezy, kids running all over the place, a giant stone fireplace) and thought about stuffed-John, lying on his side across the mantle, head in his palm and striking a sexy pose.

"Oh I would, huh?" John asked, propping himself up on his elbow and raising an eye-brow at his friend. "You do know my ghost will haunt you every fucking day right?"

"Delightful," Paul chirped, leaning back onto the grass and feeling as though he'd just made a deal. Once again he thought about the family he wanted to have. His children, he knew, would all be beautiful and smart and not spoiled at all. And then he tried to picture his wife. Who would she be? What would she do? For some reason, he just couldn't put a face to the image.

"You ever think about our future, Macca?" John asked, returning to his previous position of looking up at the stars. "Our future, I mean."

Paul nodded slowly. "Yeah...all the time. All I can ever see myself doing is music. With you,

of course. Can you imagine us? One day, we'll be out of smelly old Liverpool. We'll be...I dunno...in the States! London! Paris!"

"Canada, even!" John said, jumping on Paul's train of thought. He let his mind wander now into one of the many fantasies he created about being famous and creating music that would matter to people. "We will be famous, Paulie! People will be screaming our names and buying our records!" He turned to Paul, a grin spread wide on his face. "Girls will be lining up to fuck us!"

Paul blushed at this last part, and proceeded to laugh nervously. Wow. Could he TRY to make it more obvious that he was a virgin? "Yeah, that's gonna be great." He gulped, thinking about it all. He would love it, and he knew that. Even when John got sick and tired of it (as he did everything) Paul would always love it.

"Yeah," John echoed, letting his breath out slowly as he watched the stars above him. There were so many- they looked so close but yet they were so far away. These stars had been around for thousands if not millions of years. The people from a hundred years ago and the people from today looked at the exact same stars- perhaps even feeling the exact same way. That's how John wanted his life and his music to be remembered. A hundred years after he was gone and his life was all said and done, he wanted to still be remembered.

While John was lost in his thoughts, Paul also stared up at the stars. He knew deep, deep down that music was what was going to carry him through life. He didn't expect to be huge, but it would sure as hell be fun if he DID get there. "John?" he asked quietly, one thing still hanging on the edges of his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"What about...what about other people?"

"What do you mean?" John asked, his eye-brows raising quizzically. "What other people?"

Paul swallowed roughly, not exactly knowing how to go about asking this question. "Don't you ever think about...you know...the people we're gonna be leaving behind?"

"I don't got much family," John said in way of an answer.

"That's not what I mean." Paul cast his eyes down, focusing on his upraised knees. He moved his fingers in patterns on his thighs, his pale fingers glowing in the moonlight.

"Oh," John said finally, the realization dawning on him. He didn't turn to look at Paul but he could see his friend's nervousness from the corner of his eye. "The birds?"

He didn't look at the other boy. He knew that what he would see there was disappointment and reproachfulness. "I...you're right about Cassidy, you know. Dead on."

"I know," John replied, fighting the smile that was pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Shut up."

John chuckled. "You brought it up, mate."

"You could have made me feel better by saying something like 'it wasn't obvious or

anything'." He shot a glare at his friend.

"Oh, sorry," John said, totally dead-pan. "It doesn't matter, Paulie. Like I said—oh, a million

fucking times—you like her and she likes you! Now make like goddamn bunny rabbits and fuck already!"

Paul gave him a serious look. "Don't fucking talk about her like that. And I think you need to take your own advice, mate."

"You want me to fuck Alley?"

Paul cast him a disgruntled look. "Uhh...well, I can tell that's what YOU want. And you've done that to just about every single other girl you've met in the past two years."

John felt a sharp pang inside of him at that remark. "What the fuck that's supposed to mean?"

"That means that you're a slut. Correction: you're a slut for just about every girl EXCEPT the one you actually like."

"Fuck off, Macca, you don't know anything!"

Paul smiled a smile that insinuated that yes, he DID know everything. "Okay."

"What?" John asked, getting agitated.

"Nothing."

"I hate you sometimes."

Paul grinned widely, showing all his teeth. "Sometimes being the key word." And then hereturned to the old topic, the one he actually WANTED to discuss. "So you're telling me you won't miss them?"

John didn't reply. The question stumped him and he thought about it as he lost himself in the stars. Would he really miss Alley? A question that he always asked himself was if he was really capable of love. Was he capable of letting someone in and opening himself up? It always seemed that people left him and didn't give him a chance to love them. If you didn't have love attaching you to someone then you wouldn't get hurt when they left you or when you left them. But Alley- she was so fucking different! She was constantly there- always in his mind; forcing him to feel something. So, would he miss her? Of course. It would just be another person he would lose in his life. But could he ever admit it? Never.

Paul thought about his own question when John didn't answer. He knew what John

considered himself as; cold, cynical, and incapable of human feeling. It was so much the label society had given him at such an early age, if only because of things that were totally out of his control. But having been friends with him, and having written songs with him, Paul knew this wasn't true. He loved. He cared with a deep passion. Whether he realized it or not, he did.

But now the question that was on Paul's mind was this-did he? Sure, he was known as a ladies' man, the boy that always got the girl. But that wasn't true. In fact, he was quite the opposite. Because it's not too fun to be in love with a girl who thinks you're scum.

He looked up at the same time John did, meeting his gaze. A silent stream of mutual understanding flowed between them, and for ONCE, words just wouldn't work. Cassidy and Alley were special, Paul knew this. He also knew that he and John would probably leave them in the end, as much as it would hurt all four of them. The whole thing was cliché and fifth grade and totally not his style, but he felt that pang in his chest that told him all he need to know. THE MOST important thing out all of this. The implied question that neither he nor John wanted to answer aloud. Sure, they were going to leave the girls one day, and sure, they were going to act like they were insignificant birds. But the truth? They would always miss them.

Forever.

...

**Catie AN: Personally, I think it's the hottest, most sexiest, rip-his-clothes-off-with-my-teeth thing when a guy likes kids and plays with them and is all sweet and stuff. Cough like Paul cough.**

**Addie AN: Yeah, but it's so much better when the guy is a deep thinker and just so- sexy. You know, sexy by just standing there. Oh like- *COUGH* John the-sexiest-man-ever- Lennon *COUGH***

**Catie AN: Jesus Christ, Addie, can you keep your dick in your pants for ONE SECOND? My. God. The things I put up with. They don't call ya Horsedick for nothin', eh?**

**Addie AN: What can I say? John just brings it out in me. Or technically brings it up.**

**Catie AN: HAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAA ew.**

**Addie AN: Hey, you laughed you douche nozzle. (I now love that word).**

**Catie AN: Shut up, you stupid cuntmuncher. CUMGUZZLER!**

**Addie AN: You are retarded aren't you?**

**Catie AN: Assbiscket.**

**Addie AN: Assbiscket? Shit, what are you 14? Oh wait...**

**Catie AN: SHUT UP, YOU INSPIRATION FOR DOUCHEFACE! (Yes, it's true. The 14 year old was the one who came up with both Doucheface and his name)**

**Addie AN: WHAT? You make no fucking sense.**

**Catie AN: I'm rubber, you're glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to YOU! SUCK ON THAT ONE, DICKBRAIN!**

**Addie AN: HA! I'm not even going to touch that one. I'm too MATURE!**

**Catie AN: Sure you are, dickbrain.**

**Addie AN: Oh go play with your dolls! I'm out, people, just review will ya!**

**Catie AN: THEY'RE STAR WARS ACTION FIGURES, NOT DOLLS! And even if they WERE dolls, I don't take orders from dickbrains like Addie. REVIEW, GUYS!**

**Addie AN: OH JUST SHUT-UP! Ok seriously, review! 8^)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Catie AN: HEY GUYS! DID YOU MISS US?**

**Addie AN: Of course they did, now what kind of a question was that?**

**Catie AN: Oh, shut up. Dickbrain. HAHAHA that one still gets me.**

**Addie AN: Well if you're saying that I have dick on the brain... oh nevermind. We should use the end ANs to fight. We gotta tell them to read our story in the beginning ones. So- hey everyone! Read this chapter, it's pretty kick ass and we think you'll love it!**

**Catie AN: WE DO NOT FIGHT IN THE ANS! I have no idea what you're talking about. But ANYWAYS, yeah, read on guys. There's something quite...interesting, you could say, in the first part of the chapter.**

**Addie AN: And something that'll make you laugh somewhere in the middle there. Let's just say A LOT of stubborness flows through this chapter. Read on!**

The house was deadly quiet.

And the trouble was, the house wasn't normally quiet. There was usually a burst of giggles coming from upstairs from Cecilia's friends, or the quiet hum of the television set, or Mam and Da's happy chatter coming for the kitchen, or Mam's friend Mrs. Larke over to discuss gardening or whatever the hell middle aged women talk about. But right now, it was silent.

Cassidy made her way from the front hall to the living room, where she jumped in surprise at finding human life in there. Her father was sitting on the couch, his back straight and his knees bent at a perfect ninety degree angle. Her mother was sitting next to him, her skirt smooth, her face looking bright and happy as ever, and had a full face of make up on. The different between them was shocking.

"Er…what's with all the noise?" Cassidy joked feebly, dropping her small leather book bag down on the ground and taking a seat on the armchair across from her parents. She felt like she was at an interview.

Mam cleared her throat sharply, her smile still bright and sunny and set in place. Da, however, looked miserable. Shell-shocked, almost. Cassidy leaned in a little bit, staring hardly at him. How long had his hair been grey on the sides?

"What's going on?" Cassidy demanded, their silence and lack of giddy banter disturbing her. "Who died?" She grinned, but as soon as she said it she could tell it was the wrong thing to say.

Her parents exchanged looks, and she noticed that her father's usually pale face had gone a slightly grey shade. As though he were a ghost. Mam's hand slowly made its way up until it rested firmly on Da's knee. She squeezed it, then leaned toward me a little bit, her smile fading but only slightly.

"We've just been to the doctor," she said slowly, as though speaking to a five year old.

Cassidy's mind zoomed forward, and immediately she thought: baby. And the truth? The thought overwhelmed her with joy. Was there a more perfect way to sabotage their 'happy' little family than with a bonus baby? She thought not. Hopefully it was a boy, and he was out of his mind with energy. Hopefully he liked to muck about in the mud, and then run through Mam's freshly clean house covered from head to toe in it. Hopefully, he would love Cassidy more than anyone else in the family, as she would join him in almost any activity he did, as she would ALWAYS be eternally grateful-

"It's your father."

"Da is pregnant?" she blurted, then slapped a hand over her mouth. Shit. Why the hell did she always have to go around saying things like that?

Mam gave her a strange look, obviously questioning her sanity. However, Da shook his head slowly, a smile stretching across his lips. It was a real, genuine smile. The problem was, it was tired looking, as though it had been travelling for an extended amount of time on a long, weather-beaten road.

"No, nothing like that," Mam chirped, her face still slightly twisted. "It's just…well, he's a bit sick."

"Sick," Cassidy repeated, then glanced at him again. "He doesn't look sick. Just a bit old."

Once again, Da shook his head and smiled. But now his smile was a sad one. Cassidy would have rathered him not smiling at ALL compared to this smile filled to the brim with desolation.

Her mother continued as though Cassidy had never spoken at all. "You see Cassidy…he's been sick for a very long time."

This seemed rather stupid to her. "If he was sick, then why didn't you just get him some fucking medicine?" she reasoned, thinking this sounded fair.

"Watch your mouth," her mother snapped. Cassidy was starting to find it odd that her father hadn't said anything yet. He wasn't so sick that he couldn't open his mouth, was he?

"Well? Would you answer the question?"

Mam looked down, as though if she broke eye contact her questions would just…poof. Go away. "We didn't know he was sick," she answered quietly, flicking her eyes up to meet Cass's. "We only found out today."

At this point, Cassidy was rather frustrated. "Well, would you just tell me what's going on, then? Because I'm not a child any more…I'm not Cecilia. I can take it. I mean, I've been through a number of things, whether you realize it or not! And I think that I should be able to-"

"I'm dying."

Cassidy wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly. She frowned leaning forward a bit. "I'm sorry, what?"

Da sighed, rubbing his face tiredly with his hands. "They found cancer…it's already spread throughout my body. It's too late; I'm dying, Cass."

Her heart was beating much too fast for her to be alive. Surely she was having a heart attack or something. She felt like at any moment, she could throw up all over the place. Her father, the only one in the family worth staying for, was going to be gone. Forever. And he wouldn't be coming back. One single, fat tear drop ran down her face. It just wasn't fair. Why him? Why HER da? He wasn't even that old! He had so much more life to live.

Mam suddenly jumped up from the couch, startling Cassidy out of her thoughts. She looked up at her, expecting to see tear tracks parting their way through her heavy makeup. "So," she chirped, "who wants to help with supper?"

Cassidy stared up at her in disbelief, totally unable to say anything. How was she not the least bit upset by this? WHY wasn't she the least bit upset by this?

When no one said anything, Mam merely shrugged and bustled into the kitchen, picking up a stray laundry basket from the rug. Cassidy stared after her, still awestruck. Finally, she allowed herself to look at her father, whose head was now in his hands, with his elbows resting on his knees. His shoulders were heaving but he wasn't making any noise at all.

For some reason, this fired Cassidy up. Suddenly, she was pissed. She followed her mother into the kitchen, and when she got there, Mam turned around cheerfully, saying , "Oh, so you've decided to help-"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?"

Mam looked rather taken aback. She put her hand to her heart daintily, frowning deeply. "Watch your tone, please, young lady!"

Cassidy's hands came up to her hair, grasping wildly at it. "Da…Da is DYING! Can't you get that through your head?"

"I-"

"HE'S DYING! As in, leaving and never coming back! And you're not even CRYING!"

Mam's eyes widened, her frown deepening. "Well, he's my husband. Of course I'm SAD, but-"

"THEN SHOW IT, YOU COLD-HEARTED BITCH!"

That hurt. She could tell. Mam looked like she had been slapped in the face. "Cassidy Elizabeth Farrell, you take that back-"

"Make me," Cass hissed, taking a few hostile steps forward. Mam shrank back into the sink, as if hoping to melt into it and escape. She looked pretty incapable of speech right now, so Cassidy decided to go on. "You know what? Underneath all that make up and hairspray, and those fake smiles and laughs, I bet you're just as miserable as the rest of us. Can't you see? Life isn't fucking perfect. I think that should be pretty obvious with the situation at hand."

Disgust riddled Cassidy's still some-what childlike features. She stepped forward once again, her finger reaching out to poke Mam in the chest sharply. "You know what? Until you can crawl out of your hole and face the world as YOU, not that fake, peppy bitch, I'm leaving."

She spun on her heel, sweeping out of the kitchen with a flourish. Behind her, her mother called out in a weak voice, "Cassidy, you can't-"

"I can and I will," Cass hissed, standing in the doorway and not looking at her.

"I need you…" she whispered.

"What about what I need? And Da? You don't need me; you just want people to think you do," Cassidy spat.

"Please…"

Cassidy wasn't listening anymore, however, as she took off once again, pulling the door open and stepping outside. "I'm DONE!" she screamed, and with that slammed the door.

…..

"Why are you touching my guitar?"

Alley spun around, John's guitar in her hand. She was grinning at him sheepishly and she just shrugged, having no particular answer. Usually if someone ever touched something of his, he would get angry, yell at them and maybe even hit them. You didn't just come into John Lennon's room and touch his possessions—especially his guitar—and leave with all of your limbs attached.

But this was Alley.

So instead he grinned back at her and walked over to her. Gently, he took his guitar from Alley's hands and sat on his bed, laying it on his lap. For a moment they sat there, staring at each other silently. John's fingers subconsciously ran up and down the guitar; somewhat lovingly. Alley sighed and spun around on John's wooden desk chair, watching as he stared ahead and slowly plucked at his guitar strings.

"What are you doing here?" John asked as he put his guitar behind him on the bed. He stared at her, his face a blank mask of no emotion.

"I—uh-," Alley stuttered, not wanting to sound eager or like a girlie-girl in love with a guy. "I was walking around and I just decided to come by." She hoped that it didn't sound too phony and made up. She was there for a reason but she didn't know how to bring it up.

John raised his eye-brows at her and smirked. "Really?"

"No," Alley said and looked away. They shared a small chuckle.

"So then- what's going on?"

Alley looked back up at him and groaned inwardly. She didn't know if she could do this. When she set out for John's house, she felt confident and sure that she could do it. She planned to walk right up to him and just ask him; let it out bluntly and easily. But now, staring at him, she was overcome with shyness and a weird feeling of awkwardness that was unknown territory for her. Her voice seemed to be frozen halfway up her throat and she couldn't speak if her very life depended on it. But to her surprise, John spoke first. Suddenly, he didn't look so confident and cocky. Was it possible? John Lennon looked embarrassed and shy.

"So," he said, failing at trying to sound non-chalant. He was lying down now, staring at the ceiling and avoiding Alley's eyes at all costs.

"So," Alley echoed. She blew out a breath and watched the wheels on the bottom of the chair as she spun around slowly. It was clear that they both had something to say but neither of them - no matter how tough or strong they seemed –- had enough confidence to blurt it out.

"So where's your better half?" John said suddenly. He didn't look at her but he heard the chair stop spinning and could feel Alley's eyes on him.

"Cass?" Alley asked with a chuckle. "I'm not sure. Ha! Maybe she's with Paul!"

"Maybe," John replied. "It's about fucking time, if you ask me."

Alley scoffed. "I know! It's about time those two got together! I hate it when two people who are so painfully right for each other take so long to get together!"

"Fuckin' right."

The silence that hung in the air was deafening as they both realized what they had just said. It definitely applied to Cass and Paul but even more so, it applied to the both of them. Neither of them acknowledged it though and both pushed it out of their minds. They were both so perfect for each other and yet, either of them thought of themselves as relationship people. Okay, so they kissed a bunch of times. But that didn't mean anything, right? John still went out with other girls and slept with them.

"Are you going to the prom?" Alley asked suddenly. She figured it would be easier to just get it out in the open instead of beating around the bush.

John sucked in his breath. _Did she know? _She couldn't have possibly known what he wanted to say. He didn't tell anyone—not even Paul. But he didn't show it. He played it cool and non-chalant, trying to make it look to Alley like he didn't really give a crap. Which he really didn't. High school dances were stupid and a waste of time; they didn't even play the good rock and roll. Mostly jazz and then some of the "appropriate" songs. It was a laugh and John would rather spend his night doing something more productive like playing music. But for some reason unknown to him, he wanted to take Alley to the prom.

"I don't know," he said with a non-committal shrug. "Maybe. Every time there's a dance, Paul fuckin' drags me along. Although he's too young to go to this prom thing. So- I don't know."

"Oh." Alley nodded, trying not to show her eagerness. "Cass is the same way. She likes dances where you get all dressed up."

"You don't?" John asked with eye-brows raised.

"Fuck no!" Alley said, a little too loudly and it made John laugh. With a grin she explained, "I don't dress up. I mean, look at me; I'm wearing my step-brother's jeans for God's sake! I know that if I went to this thing, Cass would make me buy a dress."

John scoffed. "Macca would make me buy a fuckin' suit."

"So—you're not going, then?" Alley asked, mentally crossing her fingers that he would say something different. He didn't answer but just shrugged instead. She signed inwardly. But then suddenly there was that little nagging voice in her head commonly referred to as her conscience. It was like one of those conversations you have in your head where you kind of answer yourself.

**What the hell is wrong with you?**

_What? I'm not doing anything._

**Bull-shit! You are with him right now. Grow a pair and ask him already.**

_I'm a...girl. I can't physically grow a pair..._

**Don't get smart. You know you want to ask him. So go ahead and fucking ask him already! You tell Cass all the time to get over it and get with Paul but you can't ask John to go to the prom with you?**

_Okay, fine, shut-up. But isn't it the right way for the guy to ask the girl? Like, tradition or whatever._

**When the fuck do you ever follow tradition? Aren't you supposed to be "I can do whatever I want" and all that?**

_You know what? Shut-up you stupid voice in my head! I get the point._

**Then do it.**

_Okay. But what if he says no?_

**Oh please, you know he's hot for you.**

_Yeah, how the hell do you know? Are you a psychic voice?_

**I just know. Same as how I know you like him. I know the thoughts you have and the dreams you have of him.**

_Okay now, you have to shut up._

**You do know that talking to yourself in your head is a sign of insanity?**

_SHUT-UP!_

**No. Just do it now.**

_Okay._

**Right now!**

_Holy shit! I will!_

**Now!**

_OKAY!_

Alley took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. She stood, walked over to where John lay on the bed and sat on the edge next to him. Without even thinking about it, he brought his hand up and began stroking her arm and twisting her dark hair around his fingers. She turned her head so that she was staring into his dark but beautiful eyes. He stopped playing with her hair and moved his hand over her face, touching her black, horn-rimmed glasses. He smiled softly.

"You got Buddy Holly glasses."

Alley chuckled. "You just noticed?"

"No," John said with a shrug. "Just the first time I really saw them."

"Well?" Alley asked, grinning down at him and motioning to the glasses. "How do they look?"

"I like," John said with that devilish Lennon grin. He put one hand on the back on her neck and slowly pulled her face towards his. In a moment, they were kissing, hot and passionate and it didn't take a while for their breathing to become heavy. After a few more seconds, Alley pushed herself away from him.

"So—do you want to go to the prom?" she asked. It just came out and strangely, she didn't sound nervous.

John looked up at her, thinking about it. Then finally he just grinned and said, "Sure, why not."

With a small laugh of glee and triumph, she bent her head back down to John's face and beginning kissing him again. It was more one those moments that made her feel truly happy inside. And she wouldn't give it up for the world.

…..

Cassidy ran blindly through the streets, not carrying anything in her hands, except for her shoes. Tears clouded her eyes, and she wasn't thinking straight about where she was going. If she was being logical, she would have turned once she was out of her house and headed to Alley's house. But her feet seemed to have a mind of their own.

She had visited Paul's house a few times in the time she had known him, so his father was fairly familiar to her. And, of course, his brother Mike. Oh, Mike. But why, she couldn't help but wonder, had her feet chosen to take her to the McCartney house, of all places?

These reflections, however, came later. At the moment, she was too emotional to get her thoughts organized. She reached her fist up, pounded three times on the door, and took a step back. When no one answered, she put my fist up to knock again. Again, no one came.

This was right about the time that she started feeling particularly hopeless.

She slumped against the porch railing, her body shaking with the force of her repressed tears. Only a few managed to seep down her face, and she let them slide off her nose and onto the ground, where they seeped into the wooden slates.

"Cass?"

She looked up to find a boy standing in the doorway, her age, wearing a concerned frown and a checkered, button down shirt. She gave a moan of relief and flung herself at him, her arms coming to wrap around his neck and her face buried in the crook of his neck.

"P-Paul…" she cried, and he embraced her back, his arms snaking around her waist tightly.

Has he grown, or was it just her?

Paul rested his chin on top of her head, trying to hold her together as she cried. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, knowing this probably wasn't the time or place, but REALLY wanting to know.

"M-My da…he has cancer."

This sets off a terrible pang in Paul's stomach. FUCK. He knows exactly how Cassidy feels right now. Like, exactly. He can picture her face when her parents told her, as it was probably similar to the look he wore.

"Oh, shit. Cass I'm so sorry."

She looked up, her face red and splotchy and her eyes a bright, turquoise blue. "That's not even the worst part. The WORST part is that my mam doesn't even care. She…she…she doesn't even care…" When Cass couldn't get any more words out, she ducked back into Paul's shirt, hiding her nasty face from him.

Paul stroked her hair, rocking her gently. Poor bird. "At least you have your family. That's gonna be important; you gotta stick with your family."

Her shuddering breaths stopped, the damp spot on his shirt wasn't getting any wetter. He pulled her head back, the bent down to look into her wary eyes. There was something she wasn't telling him, wasn't there? "Cassidy?"

"I told my mam I was leaving. I told her I was leaving and never coming back." Her face crumpled again, though she was making an obvious effort to take deep, soothing breaths. "And now I have nowhere to stay."

Paul knew immediately what he was going to do. It was something he SHOULD do, but he was sure as hell gonna do it. "You can stay with me," he told her softly. Her parents wouldn't like that, not in the least bit. And his father wouldn't be too crazy with the idea, either, much as he loved Cassidy. "My dad isn't home…he's gone away for the weekend to visit some family. Once he gets back we'll have to…er…tell him. And I dunno how thrilled he's gonna be with the idea."

Cassidy looked up, frowning heavily. "No, Paul. You don't have to do this. I can…I can go somewhere else. Alley's. Or…" She trailed off. She didn't have an 'or'. She didn't want him to pity her, and feel like he HAD to take her in.

"No. I want to." He watched her, the way she pulled her hair back from her damp face, the way she wiped away mascara from under her eyes, the way she bit her bottom lip, letting him know she was thinking hard. Even though she was a mess right now…he had never been more attracted to her. And to think that THAT, that beautiful girl, would be living in his house. However would he control himself?

"T-Thanks, Paulie." She smiled up at him, and for one wonderful moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. But she didn't. She would never do that. Because she just didn't feel that way for him.

Paul ushered the girl inside, shooting looks at his brother so that he wouldn't ask any questions. Cass glanced at the clock, noticing it was dinnertime. "Oh, shit! Am I…er…intruding?" It didn't really occur to her that it wasn't exactly 'intruding' if she was now temporarily living there.

Mike grinned toothily. "Nope. Not intruding at all."

So all three of them sat down together to eat, and Cass and Paul made plans to sneak into her house the next day to grab some of her stuff. But until then, she would just have to make do with what the boys had.

Cassidy fell asleep on the couch that night, and when Paul walked into the room, ready to tell her that his room was all hers, he found her there, her auburn curls spread around her angelically and her hands tucked under her chin. It's gonna sound cliché, but Paul's heart totally skipped a beat. She was gonna be sleeping in HIS bed tonight.

He picked her up, making sure her arms were around his neck and her legs were securely draped over one of his arms. He made his way past his brother Mike's room, then walked into his room. The sheets were already open, so he put Cassidy down, resting her head on the pillow, and slid her legs under the covers.

"Night, Cass," he whispered, even though she looked like she was in a deep sleep. She didn't respond to his words except to wiggle deeper into the blankets. "I…I love you."

He held his breath, afraid that she would respond. But she didn't. So, he got up making his way to the door. Once he was there, he switched off the light, hardly daring to turn around and face her.

"I love you, too," a small, high voice answered him. A millions fireworks erupted in the pit of his stomach. He looked over his shoulder at the girl in his bed, but she slept on. She must have answered him in her dreams.

He grinned, closing the door behind him and leaning against it, his chest heaving. "She loves me," he murmured.

….

Paul was ignoring John's snide comments about his upcoming death as he continued down the sidewalk. "Listen, John. She's not going to let you bring her to fucking prom if you don't have a suit. It's like...against the rules or something."

"I'm not wearing a fucking suit," John said, pronouncing each word carefully and slowly.

"Yes, you are wearing a fucking suit," Paul answered back, not even the slightest bit intimidated. He gripped his arm tightly, then dragged him into the suit rental store. "Can we get some help?" he called out.

John grunted but let Paul pull him into the small suit shop. It was dark and dusty and by the looks of it, very few people bought their suits her. He felt like punching Paul in the face- repeatedly- for bringing him here. But he didn't. With a scowl on his face, John leaned against the wall and waited for the salesperson to come over.

A middle-aged lady walked over to them, beaming wide. "Hello, can I help you?"

Paul nodded seriously, gesturing over to his friend. "Me mate John here is in serious denial. He thinks he doesn't need a suit for prom."

She sucked in a breath, looking at John as though he was seriously ailed.

"I don't," John said like a petulant five-year old child. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his friend and the short, plump sales lady. "I can wear my own goddamn clothes."

The lady sighed, scanning him quickly with her eyes. Then she looked back at Paul. "So, his date. What do you think of her?"

Paul considered this. Cassidy had told him earlier that day, before she left his house, that she was making Alley buy a prom dress. So that meant John needed a suit for sure. "Pretty girl, nice dress. He's in definite need of a suit."

"What's wrong with jeans and a jacket?"

Paul cast him a look. "That is NOT classy." Paul, if he did was so himself, was the master of classy.

The lady sized John up once more, then nodded sharply. "I have a few choices that would look EXCELLENT on him." She tapped her chin. "Slim...tall...little wide in the shoulders..." She wandered off, scanning the racks.

John leaned forward, whispering in Paul's ear, "I'm going to rip your head off, McCartney."

"Ah, but not before Alley rips YOURS off if you show up in jeans and a jacket," Paul whispered back.

The sales lady spun around, holding a bright blue tux on a hanger, and smiling convincingly. "What do you think? I think it'll compliment his skin tone WONDERFULLY."

"She doesn't care about clothes and all that stupid fashion shit!" John said and then when he saw the navy blue suit the lady was holding, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Oh God!"

Paul snorted into his hand. "Oh, I think she'd have quite a few things to say about THIS one." He nodded at the lady. "Er...this is the one, I think. Huh, Johnny Boy?"

John grimaced and put a hand over his eyes, groaning loudly and sighing dramatically. "Fine," he muttered.

Paul couldn't believe his ears. "Fine?" he asked faintly, looking back at the bright blue suit.

John looked up and snarkily said, "Would you let me say no?"

"Well...yes. To this one."

"Oh God Paul, make up your mind!" John groaned again and then turned to the sales lady. She was so much shorter than him that she had to look down just to make eye contact with her. "Can't you make me look like Elvis or something?"

This made Paul snort into his palm again. Then he couldn't stop laughing, holding his stomach and shaking. "E-E-Elivs...?"

The lady pursed her lips, trying not to laugh probably. "Okay, let me see if I have something...else."

John turned to Paul and glared at him. "What?"

Paul couldn't speak, instead turning away from him and wiping a tear from his eye.

The saleslady came back, holding another suit on a hanger. "How about this? Not very risky or unique...but timeless all the same."

John raised his eye-brows at the suit. It looked like something that was last worn in 1929. Shaking his head and scoffing he said, "No."

By this time, Paul was done laughing. He was just starting to get pissed off. He marched over to the nearest rack, scanned the suits hanging there for John's relative size, and yanked a plain black one out. "We'll just take this one." He turned towards his friend. "You're so fucking stubborn it drives me crazy."

John was grinning now, trying not to laugh at how Paul got angry so easily. "Does that mean we can leave now?"

"Yes. I am so beyond done with this." He pulled some plain black dress shoes from out of nowhere, because if John owned dress shoes, then pigs were flying in a frozen over hell.

"Good," John said with a satisfied grin. He took a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and put it in his mouth. He let it hang there, unlit as he continued to grin at Paul. "I'll see you outside." Pushing with his one hand, he left the shop, the little bell over the door ringing as he did.

…..

It was an unusual day in Liverpool. For one thing, the sun was shining brightly in the usually dark sky and there were no clouds to be seen. And the part that made it very unusual and utterly revolting? Alley was going dress shopping with Cassidy. It was almost a rule to her to never wear a dress- save for the God-awful school uniform all the students were forced to wear. Pants were the only things she ever wore and a dress made her go rigid with stone-cold fear. As she followed Cassidy down the sidewalk to the dress shop, she lagged behind purposely and groaned loudly to piss off Cassidy.

Cassidy spun around, grabbed Alley's hand tightly, and dragged her into the posh store. She adored the bright lights, the row after row of bright colored clothing. "This'll be fun, you'll see." She grinned, waving over a sales person.

"Ah, Ms. Farrell. What can we do you for?" Cass didn't even think twice about how they knew her name.

"Fun?" Alley echoed. She looked absolutely horrified and like she was about to keel over and barf at any given second. "It'd be more fun to hang myself with one of those shawls.

Cass rolled her eyes, but paid no attention to Alley. "I need a prom dress. Actually, my friend here need a prom dress."

The saleslady looked past her, at Alley, who was wearing her oversized, thick framed glasses, boy clothes that hung off her tiny frame, and hair messily tied up in a ponytail. "Er...what's her date like?"

Cass thought about this. "He's somewhat of an asshole, kinda nasty-lookin. But that's okay, 'cause I suppose my friend is gonna dress him up real nice, and Alley should look the same."

"I want to wear pants," Alley said bluntly.

Cass turned around slowly and menacingly, her eyes narrowed. "The day you wear pants to your senior prom is the day I fall down a well and die."

"Yeah that's fine," Alley said with a grin and eyes glaring right back at her friend.

Cass stared long and hard at Alley, an epic battle of wits going on. Finally, she turned around, facing the saleslady. "We're going to need a dress...I'm feeling red with her skin tone, yeah?" The lady nodded feverishly, then began to glide along the racks, picking out suitable pieces.

"Black," Alley muttered, sitting in the overstuffed green chair near the door. She crossed her arms and glared up at her friend. She did not like being here. Not at all.

"Red," Cassidy corrected. "Too much black and you'll like you're dead." She bit her lip and cocked her head, studying her friend. "Actually, a nice baby blue would look great, don't you think?" The saleslady immediately nodded, picking out a few blue pieces and adding them to her collection.

She brought back the armful to Cassidy. "Shall we go try them on?"

"Shall I go shoot myself?" Alley said in a tone mocking the saleslady.

Cass closed her eyes for a second, shaking her head. The saleslady didn't know whether she was serious or not, so she cocked her head, her mouth half open. "Alley. Up. Go try this on," Cassidy demanded, throwing a frilly red dress at her friend and heaving her out of her chair.

Groaning, Alley stomped off to the change room and nearly pulled the curtain off its rod when she yanked it closed. She was pissed off and angry that Cassidy was making her wear a dress to the stupid prom thing. Fine, she would admit that she was happy to be going with John- even if it was not like your traditional couple. But dressing up, in a stupid frilly red dress no less? Oh. HELL. No. She decided not to try on the dress that Cass gave her and she emerged from the change room with the dress still in hand, the tail of it dragging on the dirty white floor. She threw the dress back at Cassidy and glared at her and the saleslady with her hands on her hips and an expression that said: "Challenge me and I will kill you."

"Okay," she said boldly. "This is how it's gonna go. I'll wear the stupid fucking dress but I'm the one who gets to pick it out!" She turned her attention to the tall, red-haired saleslady. "Get me something dark purple or black. I want it to the knee or a few inches below it. It should be sleeveless and have a nice but not stupid pattern. Now go!"

"Or," Cass countered with a sneer, "you can take this dress," she indicated the silky blue one, "jam it on your little body, and be fucking done with it. Because you are NOT, under ANY circumstances, getting a black dress. For. Bid. Den." Cassidy took to dress, pressed it into Alley's arms, and shoved her into the dressing room. She whipped the curtain closed, making the rings screech on the metal bar that held them up. She and the saleslady both held the material to the wall so that Alley couldn't get out. "You're not coming out of there until I see a blue dress on your skinny ass, got that?" Cassidy hissed.

"I'm not putting it on!" Alley said stubbornly. "I'll take a fucking nap in here if I have to!"

"You ARE putting that on. And you're gonna like it."

"Fuck you. You can't tell me what to do." Alley threw the dress to the floor and sat on the small bench in the changing room, leaning against the wall. "I'm. Not. Moving."

Cassidy sighed dramatically. "Well that's great. I guess I'll go tell John that you're not going to prom with him, since you refuse to move from inside the dressing room. He's bound to think that's pretty silly, when all you have to do to get out is put on that stupid, measly, insignificant dress. You don't even have to keep it on long enough for anyone else to see it."

"I'll wear a dress if you let me pick it out myself!" Alley said, her stubbornness rising even higher. One of the things she hated the most is people telling her what to do. And that included telling her how to dress. Cass knew this and it was pissing her off that she wasn't respecting it. "I won't choose black, all right? But I am picking my own goddamn dress! Or I'll march over to Paul's house right now and tell him that you have recurring sex dreams about him."

Cass's face went white. But Alley couldn't tell that, since she was inside the dressing room. "Really? You're gonna march right over to his house? I thought you weren't moving." She sighed, shaking her head so that her curls went flying. "Just try on the fucking dress, Alley. It's not the end of the world. Once you try on that ONE, then you can do whatever the hell else you like."

"We both know I can tear down this fucking curtain in two seconds if I'm determined," Alley said with a slight growl in her voice. "I don't want to try this dress on. It's fucking light blue. I HATE light blue. And if you think it looks good, you'll make me get it!"

"WHY THE FUCK WOULDN'T YOU WANT TO BUY THE DRES IF IT LOOKS GOOD ON YOU?"

The saleslady thought Alley and Cassidy were crazy, and it was very apparent by the look on her face.

"BECAUSE I DON'T FUCKING LIKE IT!" Alley screamed back loudly. It was pretty much normal for them to get into a screaming match every once in a while, mostly because of Alley being so stubborn. "I WANT A PURPLE DRESS. GET ME A GODDAMN PURPLE DRESS OR I WILL HANG MYSELF IN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Cass's eyes lit up furiously. Alley commenting on hanging herself really struck home with her, as she was JUST forgetting about her dad's issue. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to regain even breathing. "I hate you, I hate you SO much. WHAT would it possibly take for you to simply try on that dress in there?"

"A million dollars," Alley snapped back, banging her fist against the wall. "Oops, guess you don't have that. So now go get me a purple dress."

"I'm not getting you a purple dress." Cassidy was going to be just as stubborn as Alley was. "I will...I'll tell you about what I did with Paul last night when I spent the night at his house."

"You spent the night at his house?" Alley asked, her curiosity taking over for a second.

"Yeah, because I can't stand to be around those insufferable people we commonly refer to as my parents anymore. I WOULD tell you what happened, seeing as you're my best friend and all, buuuuuut..."

Alley chuckled, wanting to know what happened between Cass and Paul but not wanting to fall for it. "Nice try, Cass. It's okay, I pretty much figure out what you did. And it's ok really, I can just ask John. You know Paul will talk to him and you know John will tell me so it's all good." Taking a deep breath and smiling to herself she said, "Purple dress."

"Oh, no. Paul wouldn't tell John. See," Cass said, knowing she was diving into unfamiliar territory and she shouldn't say a lot. Her head told her to shut up, but her want to win against Alley was making her keep going, "John was under the impression that Paul did much more than simply make out with those girlfriends that he's had. And Paul wasn't going to tell him any different. Not the great John Lennon."

"Oh well," Alley said, unfazed. Many times she let Cass talk her into doing things or wearing things because she was her best friend. But this time? Alley was standing her ground and she was going to win. She was prepared to sit there all night running on her stubbornness alone. "You know I could always ask Paul. We both know I can be very persuasive."

Cassidy frowned, not quite understanding. "What do you mean?" In the way she understood it, being 'very persuasive' was not something Alley usually did. And ESPECIALLY not with Paul. Unless she was very, very much mistaken.

Alley nearly gasped, covering her mouth. She couldn't believe she just said that. Forcing the shakiness out of her voice she said, "I could beat it out of him."

"Beat it out of him? Yeah, okay." She smiled, shaking her head. Alley would NEVER go behind her back and do anything-even beat him up-to Paul. "Besides, if you don't put that dress on, you can't get out of the changing room. And if you can't get out of the changing room, you can't go to prom. And if you can't go to prom, then me and Paul can-well, never mind."

"I'm sure the nice saleslady will kick us out when the store closes," Alley reminded her smugly. "And then I wouldn't have bought a dress. You know, I do have some nice jeans at home. I stole them from Garrett and I have to say they fit me quite nicely."

Cassidy cringed, looking to the saleslady for help. "Er...you and your friend may stay as long as you like?" the woman said, saying it like a question.

Now it was Cassidy's turn to be smug. "If you don't put the dress on, not only will I have our new friend here keep you in here, but I will ALSO go off and tell Mr. Lennon all the persuasive things you and Paul have been doing behind our backs." Of course, Cassidy was completely making this up. But you never know what John could believe, what with that nasty temper of his.

Alley felt her heart stop. Oh no. No. Cass couldn't possibly know. She was just making it up to get Alley to try on the stupid dress. And Alley was not going to give in. "Tell him. It's not like me and John are dating. I know he probably fucks girls behind my back."

"Yeah, but he's not fucking me, your best friend." She thought for a second, seeing as this really, really wasn't working. She took a deep breath, and with one swift, fluid motion, she pushed the saleslady aside, opened the curtain, picked up the dress, and yanked it over Alley's head.

"Hey!" Alley screamed in protest. She stood up suddenly and pushed Cassidy hard out of the changing room. She pulled the dress off of her; Cassidy had only got it on a quarter of the way. She growled and threw it at Cassidy's face. "Don't fucking do that!"

Cassidy unballed the dress, then tackled Alley to the ground, sitting on top of her and pinning her arms to the ground. Without a word, she put the dress over Alley's head, pushed her arms through it, and rolled off of her. "I told you," she said, pointing at her fallen friend. "That you were gonna put the fucking dress on."

"I'm going to kill you!" Alley screamed and rolled to side and stood, pulling off the dress for a second time. She threw it at Cassidy and glared hard. "You bring that near me one more time and I'll make you eat it!"

Alley nodded when Cass didn't say anything and she stalked off to the back of the store to pick a dress of her own. After a few minutes of perusing through the racks upon racks of dresses, she pulled out one that seemed to satisfy her. It was a nice, deep purple with some (but not a substantial amount) of shiny sequins across the top. "Here," she said, handing the dress to Cass. "I want it."

Cass glared at the dress. It was much too dark. And also... She walked over to where the blue dress lay in a heap on the floor. She held it next to the purple one. "You do realize," she said through gritted teeth. "THAT'S THE SAME EXACT DRESS!" The only difference was the color. Cassidy literally wanted to throttle her best friend.

"It's purple," Alley said with a smirk and threw it at the saleslady who caught it before it sailed to the floor. "Charge that to the Farrell account will ya?" Heading towards the door she called behind her, "Meet you outside, Cass!"

Cassidy scrunched her face up. Under normal circumstances, this would be no problem. Her family did pretty well. But right now, with her father's medical bills to take care of, this was a slight problem. She looked over at the saleslady, who looked unsure. "Just...here. Here's the money." Cass pulled some bills (her babysitting money) out of her purse, then followed Alley.

Alley stared at her friend as they silently walked down the street together. She was smug and happy about getting her way and walked with a slight bounce in her step. "So," she said, trying to keep from laughing quite loudly, "What now?"

Cass was rather upset. This whole shopping trip was NOT going the way she liked. Suddenly, she looked up to a store-front sign of a pretty girl with a high, hair sprayed up do. A boy's arm was around her waist, and she was mid-laugh. The caption under her picture read: Just When I Thought I Wouldn't Get a Date, I Got Contacts. And then it went on to describe this wonderful new invention, and how anyone could get them.

Cassidy stopped dead, completely ignoring Alley. She stared up at the girl's glossy face. If she didn't get her way about the dress, she sure as hell was gonna get her way about THIS.

"Why are we stopping now?" Alley asked, half-whining. "I'm hungry!"

Cassidy didn't look away from the advertisement. She was suddenly not frustrated, and her father illness and the cost of his medical bills were out of her mind.

"Hello!"

"Alley...how do you feel about contacts?" Cassidy asked slowly, her eyes traveling down to her friend, then back up to the advertisement. "Now THAT would certainly make a statement."

Alley's hand flew up to her glasses. She had gotten them over a month ago and she really liked them. Ever since Buddy Holly came onto the rock and roll scene, she absolutely admired his glasses. So she saved up all the money and immediately traded her stupid wire frames for cool, black Buddy Holly-style glasses. And now Cass wanted her to get rid of them? She shook her head. "Nope."

Cassidy rolled her eyes. "This time, I'm not asking. You are, under NO circumstances, wearing those to the dance." She cocked her head, thinking. She couldn't even remember the last time she had seen Alley without her glasses. "You're a fucking girl, it's high time you started looking like one."

Alley grimaced and crossed her arms. She was at the point of near growling. "I'm a girl. Maybe I don't wear little sissy sundresses and don't curtsy and act all polite, but I'm a girl! And I decide what I wear!" She took a step forward and pointed her finger in Cass's face. "I'll have you know that these are Buddy Holly glasses. He wears them and he's cool!"

Cassidy looked down at her flouncy, yellow sundress. That bitch! "Keyword, Al. 'He'." And with that, she grabbed her hand, forcing her into the glasses place. Cassidy was going to make Alley look damn beautiful for prom, even if it killed her.

...Which most likely, it would.

…..

Alley groaned as she ran down the stairs to grab the ringing phone. Apparently Royce decided to take his son for some quality bonding time at the bar and her mother was out of town visiting her sister in Ohio. It was just as well though; Alley always enjoyed having the house to herself. Of course, being in extreme pain from her latest round with Royce didn't exactly add to her joy. But you can't always win. Finally reaching the phone, she grabbed it to stop its loud and insane ringing and put it to her ear.

"'Ello?"

"'Ello luv."

Alley couldn't help but smile when she heard John's voice float over the phone lines. He never seemed like a phone-type of person and it kind of surprised her that he was calling. And that he had her phone number. But that was no matter; she was just happy that she was getting a call from him.

"How's it goin', Johnny?" she asked, curling the phone cord around her wrist and leaning against the kitchen wall.

John chuckled on the other end. "Paul made me buy a suit." The growl in his voice made her stifle a laugh.

"Tell me about it," Alley agreed, shaking her head as she remembered the dress and contacts debacle. She _still _wanted to smack Cassidy for that. But she was happy to be going to the prom. "Cass made me buy a dress," she said and grimaced. "And those contact things. I'm apparently not allowed to wear my Buddy Holly glasses with a dress."

"Those fuckin' friends of ours!"

Alley scoffed. "Friends? We should kill them!"

John laughed and then cleared his throat. "So—for this prom thing- can I pick you up at seven?"

Alley couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face. She spoke in a controlled tone. "Yup. Sounds great. See ya then."

"See ya, luv," John said and she could hear the smirk in his voice. After a few seconds, he hung up and with a smile, Alley did too.

With a renewed sense of happiness, Alley skipped off to her room. Nothing could ruin her mood now.

….

Cassidy sat on Paul's bed, her silk nighty finally returned to her. Last night hadn't been so comfortable, the whole sleeping in normal clothes thing. But she had made due, and it turns out it was for the better. So there.

Paul sat on the end of his bed, watching Cassidy braid her hair, her baby blue nightgown flowing around her like water. "I made John get a tux."

"I figured," she said, smiling up at him. Did she remember saying that she loved him last night? Did she remember him saying her loved her? Paul didn't think so. "I made Alley get a dress." She finished her braid, and it trailed over one shoulder, the loose pieces of curls tucked away from her face. She looked beyond sexy.

"God, I can't wait to see this," Paul said, grinning that charming, pretty boy smile. Don't fall for it, don't fall for it, Cass chanted to herself. She was a little bit afraid that it was a bit too late.

"Me either. Tell Mike to take pictures."

"Definitely."

For a moment, they just sat there, staring at each other. Then Paul, figuring she wanted him to leave, stood up, stretching his arms above his head like he was tired. He wasn't tired at all.

"Well, I guess I should be getting to sleep…" he said casually, leaning himself against one of the walls. Cass looked up at him, a curious expression etched on her face.

Ask him, she thought aggressively. Ask him now! "Listen, Paul," she blurted, her voice coming out much louder than she intended. "I was wondering about something."

Oh, shit. Here it comes, Paul thought. Now she's gonna ask him if he really did love her. And then she's gonna say that she really didn't even mean it, she just wanted to make him feel good. But NOW she realizes that it was all just a terrible mistake, and she wants to take it back, and—

"What are we gonna do the night of prom?"

"…we?" Paul asked, picking out the word and cocking his head.

Cass blushed. "Yeah…unless you already had plans. Or you're going."

"Yeah, one of the senior girls asked me. It's no big deal or anything, 'cause I don't really wanna go. So I won't."

Cassidy felt her heart sink. She was his second option. He would much rather be at the dance with the pretty, popular senior then stuck at home with her, the miserable, ugly sophomore. "Oh…right."

"Cassidy, I'm not going."

"Yeah, you said that."

"Then what's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Good."

Paul narrowed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. He never would understand this girl, would he? He shrugged, as if to answer his own internal question, and turned around, flicking the light as he went. "Night, Cass. Sleep tight."

What, no I love you tonight? Some part of his conscious nagged. He shrugged it off again, and started down the hall without an answer from Cassidy.

"WAIT! PAUL!" She got up, padding over to where he stood in the hallway, facing away from her.

"What?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. He could see her standing there, her short night dress coming up to just above her knees and displaying her long, lean legs nicely. He swallowed. "You should go to bed."

"YOU should go to bed," she countered, crossing her arms. Why wouldn't he look at her? "And I just wanna know one thing: which senior?"

Paul didn't answer. "Go to bed, Cassidy." And then he walked away.

He wouldn't tell her; he couldn't.

**Addie AN: Now wasn't that just awesome? I mean, very intense and very funny at parts. Go us!**

**Catie AN: Addie, I thought we agreed to keep the modesty to a minimum. Hmmmm?**

**Addie AN: Was I boasting again?**

**Catie AN: Why yes, yes you were. Now SHUT UP! I'm listening to Let It Be...darn my husband, serenading me AGAIN!**

**Addie AN: You shut-up, you little child! Let It Be and Paul are amazing but honey- my husband is way better.**

**Catie AN: Actually, your husband isn't nearly as great as my husband, HONEY. NOW I'm listening to Yesterday. Need I say more?**

**Addie AN: Yes. You can go listen to In My Life. And see how AMAZING my husband is. Was. Is. Whatever.**

**Catie AN: Okay, while I would really like to keep arguing with you, I REALLY wanna say something. Whenever I refer to John, I ALWAYS ALWAYS say 'is'. And then people, usually the most insensitive people, will be like 'stop talking about him like he's still alive' and I'll freak out on them. I just...wanted to throw that out there?**

**Addie AN: Yeah, in all seriousness, I always say "is" too. Why bother saying the "was". I like him right now so therefore he is amazing. Maybe in whatever circumstances I use the "was" but usually if I'm talking about him, it's always "is."**

**Catie AN: BLACKBIRD! PAUL IS BETTER!**

**Addie AN: JOHN!**

**Catie AN: PAUL!**

**Addie AN: It's John. Get over it.**

**Catie AN: It's Paul. Even my DAD (who right now is in the living room screaming at the TV because the Bears aren't challenging a touchdown that the refs said was, in fact, NOT a touchdown) agrees that Paul is the best. And when Captain Evil agrees, you know it's serious.**

**Addie AN: All right, all right we both think different will never reach an agreement. My sister is currently threatening to throw bottles at me and I must go shower now. So just review because we are review whores. Well I am. Peace.**

**Catie AN: Guys, Addie abandoned me. That's what's going on here. SO, because she is, in fact, not here to argue with me, I'd like to say a few things. First off, Paul is clearly better. She needs to get over it. Second of all, Bears, if you don't fucking kill the Packers RIGHT NOW there will be hell to pay in the morning. Captain Evil will NOT be happy. And also, I'd like to give you this one last, deep, deep message: REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Addie's AN: Okay, since Catie is PUSHING me to write this AN, I will! Jeez Catie! All right , anyway. Here lies chapter 8 before you, for your viewing or rather, reading pleasure. It's got some very- hmmm what's the word? Intense happenings. Things that'll make your eyes pop out of your head and roll all around the room. As pleasant as that sounds. Whatever, you get the point, read because you will love it! Catie, have you anything to say on the matter?**

**Catie's AN: Are you kidding me? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Since when do I NOT have something to say?**

**Addie's AN: One can only hope.**

**Catie's AN: I hope you know that didn't make sense. Anyways, yeah guys. There's gonna be some extremely extreme content in this chapter. I mean, even writing it, I was like 'whoa, what am I doing ?'. So...have fun?**

**Addie AN: And, don't drool on the keyboard! Seriously, don't cause it's gross.**

...

Cassidy sat on 'her bed' (aka Paul's bed) while Alley shimmied on the long-debated purple

dress. She was seriously ten times more excited for this whole thing than Alley was. Which

was unfortunate, because Alley SHOULD be excited. It was her senior year; she should live it

up a little bit. Once Alley got the dress situated on herself properly, Cass stood up, grasping

the other girl's shoulders and turning them so that Alley was looking at her.

"Wow...Alley, you look amazing."

Alley raised an eye-brow sceptically. She never really thought of herself as beautiful- not

even pretty. Most of it was because Royce was always putting her down, calling her names

like "Ugly Bitch" or things of the same matter. Always, she looked at Cass and felt jealous.

But at this very moment, turning to look at herself in the mirror of Paul's bedroom, she felt

her breath catch in her throat. She never looked so nice before. And as much as she still

hated the confinement of the dress, the starchiness of the material, she couldn't help but

admire herself a little.

"You really think so?" Alley asked, turning to look back at Cass.

Cass couldn't help a big smile from spreading across her face. "You look fab, girly. So great,

in fact..." She trailed off, tapping her chin lightly. "I wonder how you'd feel about a picture or

two. Just for evidence that you've looked this nice before."

Alley felt her eyes go wide and she shook her head vigorously. "No, no, no, no, NO!"

At this time, there was a quiet commotion from down the hall, where Paul's father-who was

back from his trip, knew all about Cassidy's situation, and was letting her stay now with his

permission-had opened the door, probably revealing John. Cassidy's ears perked up, and

suddenly she was tugging at Alley's arm, dragging her out the door and down the hallway to

where she KNEW Mike was ready with his camera.

Alley groaned as Cassidy pulled her down the narrow hallway to the front door where Paul's

father was letting John in. She was about to make some sort of biting remark at her friend

when her gaze fell upon John. He was wearing a dark suit that hung on him nicely and his hair

was swept back into a neat ducktail. Alley guessed that he probably wouldn't let Paul fix his

hair nicely but that was fine with her. Standing in front of her in his new suit, John looked like

a younger, more rugged version of Elvis. And she was more attracted to him that ever

before. Of course, she'd rather die than admit that out loud. She could only imagine the heckling she would get.

John was staring at Alley with the same, pleasantly surprised expression. He was looking

Alley up and down; taking in her appearance. He was pretty sure that his eyes were bugging

out of his head as he stood there by the front door. Alley looked absolutely amazing.

Clearing his throat he said, "Ready to go, then?"

"Yeah," Alley said, finally finding her voice. She walked over to John and tried pushing him

towards the door. "Let's run before they take pictures!"

"HEY!" Cassidy called, catching Alley's hand and forcing her back into the living room. "First

of all, I'm going to take pictures and you're GOING to like it. Second of all...put your damn

shoes on, Al. It won't kill you." As she spoke, the two McCartney boys entered the room,

Mike with his camera slung around his neck and Paul with a toothy grin plastered on his face,

looking immensely pleased with himself.

Alley grimaced and sat down on the couch, kicking off her well-worn converse and taking the

purple heels from Cass, slipping them on quickly. "Happy?" she asked.

"Extremely. Now, act like you like each other!" She stood back, her hands clasped together

as she looked on like a proud mother.

Alley and John shared a look and a quick snicker before they stood together in front of the

fireplace; looking like the typical young couple on their way to prom.

"Get this over with," John said with a half-scowl.

Cassidy stepped back beside Paul, nudging him with her elbow. "They are just SO cute,

aren't they?"

He glanced back at her, an overwhelming sensation filling him from near his heart. When he was a senior, would John and Alley's spots be taken by him and Cassidy? He casually leaned back on the wall, trying to look casual. "Simply adorable." Mike stepped forward, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Can't you look more like you know each other?" he asked, frown deeply set in. Cass's hands dropped from in front of her face, and she immediately started barking orders. "C'mon guys! John, stand behind Alley and wrap your arms around her waist. Alley, lean back and act like you're in love. Shouldn't be hard," she added underneath her breath to Paul, who snickered.

"We will kill you," Alley said, dead-pan but she moved closer to John as he wrapped his arm

around her waist. She felt a little flutter in her heart when he did but she kept her face even.

"And it will hurt," John promised but there was a smirk on his face.

Cass rolled her eyes, but didn't answer. No matter what either of them said, they were BOTH

enjoying their excuse to be so close together in public. "That's...that's perfect guys. Great."

Mike snapped shot after shot, changing the lens as he felt appropriate. "Just one

more...there! Done."

"Oh thank the Lord!" Alley cried dramatically. She held onto John for a few more seconds

before walking over to Cass and pulling her aside. "So," she asked, raising an eye-brow, "you

and Paulie have plans?"

"Yup," Cass chirped, "popcorn and some games with Mike. Should be great fun. But you

don't need to worry about US."

"Oh? And who do I need to worry about?"

"Oh, I think you know," Cass fired back, hands coming to her hips. "I may only be fifteen, but

I DO know the real reason behind prom."

Alley smirked, enjoying this. "Really? Well, enlighten me, then."

"You," Cassidy answered, enjoying this equally as much, "are going to do It with John. Duh."

"Oh please," Alley said, waving her off with her hand. The comment did strike her inside but

she cleared her throat and made her voice stay even. She leaned forward and whispered, "I

bet you and Paul are gonna do it first."

Cassidy rolled her eyes. "I may be younger, but that doesn't make me completely stupid.

First of all, you and John are a...a...sorta...misshapen thing. Me and Paul are nothing but

friends. So therefore, the Humpty Dumpty award is probably going to go to you."

Paul sidled up to Cass and Alley just as Cassidy said the words "Humpy Dumpty award".

"Whoa! WHO is getting the Humpty Dumpty award?" Cass rolled her eyes, deciding to

just play it off. "I dunno, that whore-girl at school. You know, the one John was with last

week." She broke into a giggle, proud of her joke, but it was short-lived. "Haha, that's real

great, Cass. If you're done with all your comic hilarity, John and Alley REALLY have to go if

they wanna make it there on time."

"Yes," Alley said, moving away from Cass and Paul and walked towards John who stood at

the front door her jacket in hand. He helped her get into it- which made her feel nice and

kind of happy inside- and then opened the door, letting her walk out first.

"Later, children," he said to Cass, Paul and Mike with that trademark grin.

Cassidy pulled Paul with her to the front door, then leaned out it, shouting reminders at

them. "Don't forget-it ends at eleven, so don't be out too late past then! And Alley—

PLEASE try not to step on the hem of that dress. You KNOW how you are with that sort of

thing. Oh, and-"

But before she could say anything else, Paul's hand enclosed over her mouth, and he yelled out to the young couple, "BE SAFE!" And then he slammed the door shut, and Alley and John were alone.

...

Alley and John could hear the music blaring from the school gym doors before they even stepped onto the parking lot of the school. It was some kind of big band music and not the rock and roll that most—if not all—the teenagers wanted to hear. Alley stopped just before they reached the doors which was now crowded with girls in dresses and guys in suits going in, going out or just hanging out by the doors. When she stopped, she grabbed John's arm, causing him to stop as well and making him almost drop the cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"What?" he asked, turning to look at her. Now that she wore heels, he found himself staring straight into her eyes. Her beautiful, bright green eyes.

"I—I don't know if we should go in there," Alley said, sounding a bit unsure and maybe even scared which was nothing like her normal self. The truth was she did feel nervous inside and she didn't know why.

"What—you're nervous?" John asked with a smirk. He threw his cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out with his shiny black dress shoe.

"I don't know," Alley said with a shrug and a defiant glare in her eyes. She didn't let anything intimidate her. Even if something did intimidate her, she never let it show anyway. "I never go to these things. They really ain't my thing. I don't dance or—whatever. Plus this music—sucks."

John scoffed. "I know."

"No, I'm serious, it physically hurts me."

"I get it," John said glumly. But then a smirk spread across his face slowly and Alley immediately picked up that he had something planned. Her mouth twisted into a smirk and she crossed her arms; leaned her weight on one heel-clad foot and waited.

"Tell me, Johnny."

"Well," John said, his smirk growing even widening than possible, "I might as well just show you." He reached behind into the back of his pants and pulled out a handful of records. He handed them to Alley.

Looking through the records, Alley felt her smile grow and she started to chuckle in delight. John had brought at least five or six .45 records—all of them the awesome artists and bands she loved. He brought _Elvis, Buddy Holly _and even _Eddie Cochran. _Quickly, she handed them back to John and he stuffed back into the waistband of his suit pants. She was excited now, knowing that they were going to do something fun.

"What's the plan, then?"

"They don't want to play real music, right?" John asked; turning and walking towards the gym doors. Alley fell in step beside him.

"Right."

"So..."

"So we play the good music," Alley said, catching on. John nodded and she clapped her hands in delight. There was now a little spring in her step as they approached the door.

"Ready?" John asked, holding his hand out towards her.

Alley could see into the old gym now which was now decorated (overly) with multi-coloured crepe paper and balloons. Kids were packed like sardines in there—some were on the dance floor, some sat on the bleachers drinking, smoking and talking and others were bunched together in clumps, talking amongst their groups. And the nervousness that Alley felt before came back and it swirled around in her stomach. This was the moment that she was half-dreading; that she half-worried about when it finally hit her that she was actually going to prom. With John Lennon no doubt. Now, Alley was never one to care what people thought about her and it wasn't that—she just didn't want any trouble. For once, she wanted to have a good time and not have to worry about the stupid people who had nothing better to do than to pass judgements on others. But Alley didn't care. She was going to hold her head high and walk in there with John and she was going to have a great time.

"Yes," she said to John with a smile and put her hand into his.

Together, they walked into the prom, ready to have a good time.

...

Cassidy was just settling down on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in her hand, when the knock came at the door. Paul, who was swiftly gathering things up for their Night of Fun, called out, "I GOT IT!"

He went to the door, a huge smile already set in. Both he and Cass were in great moods, and he could tell there wouldn't be any fighting tonight. However, his grin quickly faded once he saw the creature that was standing on his front stoop.

She had on a glittery, poofy-skirted pink dress, and her smooth blonde locks were hair sprayed up into a rough hairdo. She had on the highest heels he had ever seen a girl wear, and her nails were painted an obnoxious bubble gum color. Her blue eyes were heavily outlined with mascara and a mix of eye shadows that made her look like she had two, healing black eyes. Her smile was toothy, plastered on her face in a way he KNEW was forced.

She looked fake.

"Marilyn," he breathed, trying to keep his voice down. "What are you doing here?"

Marilyn Bent took in his sloppy appearance, a slight frown forming on her perfectly clear forehead. "Prom is tonight…"

Paul closed his eyes for a moment, sighing through his nostrils, then looked back at her. "I told you five times, Marilyn. I'm not going. End of story."

"I thought you were just kidding," the girl chirped, her fake smile never leaving her face. Paul couldn't help but notice how her front teeth curved inward. An imperfection. "A million guys asked me…I thought what we had was something special."

Paul swallowed, easing the door shut a little ways. "We made out behind the school last week…that's not exactly something I would call 'special'." He must have realized the harshness of these words, because he backtracked. "Listen, there's someone else. Another girl. I'm so sorry, but I DID tell you that I wasn't going with you tonight."

Marilyn stared at him, as though she was having trouble comprehending exactly what he was saying. "I thought you were kidding," she repeated dumbly, that horrible, fake-ass smile dropping from her lips.

"No," Paul stated firmly, backing up a little. He didn't want Cass to hear this. She would get the wrong idea, and he knew it.

Marilyn followed him, closing the gap he just created and then some. She reached her hands up, trying to capture Paul's baby face. "C'mon, Paulie…you said…you said…"

"I'm sorry. I'm not going. I told you a million times."

She gulped, her hands still midair, and then in a split second, she leapt at him, her left heel digging into his foot and making him yelp. Her face was mere inches away from him, and her sickly pink lips were puckered out, her neck craning toward him.

Paul managed to her push her back, and she stumbled out the door. He could still smell the too sweet tang of her perfume; watermelon.

"Goodbye, Marilyn. And don't ever try that again."

She was about to open her mouth to retort some new plea, probably, when he slammed the door in her face. Paul took a deep breath, rubbing at his skin as though to scrub away her nauseating smell. Finally, he took a deep breath, heavily traumatized, and turned around.

Cassidy stood at the end of the hall, her mouth open, her eyes disbelieving. Paul and Marilyn Bent had made out behind the school LAST WEEK. She had asked him to prom. He hadn't refused right away. They had something 'special'. Just when she was thinking that things might work out between the two of them, THIS happens. It was always something. And the truth? Cassidy was damn near sick of it.

She dropped the bowl of popcorn she was still holding in her hands, sending the popped and unpopped kernels flying, and spun around, her hand coming up to hide her mouth and nose. This wasn't happening, this was NOT happening. She sprinted up the stairs, trying to keep her tears silent.

Paul chased after her. He had really, REALLY messed up this time. He had only kissed Marilyn to help get his mind off of Cass. It was only later that he found out what exactly she did to Cassidy. And now he couldn't stand the sight of her.

He yanked open his bedroom door, finding Cassidy standing before his bed, her hands covering her mouth and her shoulders shaking. He went to her.

"Cass, you don't understand," he pleaded, taking her shoulders and spinning her around so she would face him. Her face was splotchy and reproachful. "She means nothing to me. I swear to God, she means nothing."

"If she means nothing," Cassidy screeched, "THEN WHY DID YOU MAKE OUT WITH HER?"

Paul was surprised by this outburst. He frowned, but didn't move away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her protectively. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. She was just…I was just…" Cassidy struggled in his arms, trying to rip herself free.

He bent his knees a little bit, gripping both her arms to hold her steady and looking directly into her eyes. "Cassidy, she's just some girl. You're the only one that I really want." And there it was, out in the open for all the world to hear.

"Shut up. Just leave me the fuck alone. I've had enough of your lies." Cassidy wiggled and twisted in his grip, but he refused to let go.

"NO! You're going to listen to me, I swear to God you will." She stopped her movement, but only by a little bit, and looked into his eyes. Her glare was full of hate, the way her upper lip curled up and her nose scrunched seared him with venom. "I don't care about her. If she left town tomorrow, I wouldn't know the difference."

"Oh, you're such a charmer, _Paul_," she spat, a look of disgust on her face.

"Shh. Now, if YOU would leave town tomorrow, I would probably curl up and die, Cass. I know I haven't known you for too long, and I know we don't always get along, but you're the girl I want. You're the one." He stared into her eyes, trying to project his true feelings.

She was completely still for a moment, and then she threw her arms around his neck, her tears coming once again. She didn't say anything, but Paul held her impossibly close, not letting any space in between them.

"Shhh," he whispered, "it's okay."

And still she cried. "P-Paul…why'd it have to be fucking Marilyn Bent?"

He swallowed thickly, trying to remember clearly the half an hour he spent with her. It was meaningless. "It didn't have to be her. She means nothing to me," he repeated. "You're the one."

Her sobs stopped, and for a moment, they just stood there, Paul swaying gently back and forth with Cassidy in his arms, trying to hold her together. "You're the one," he murmured again, pulling away to look in her eyes. "And you always have been."

"Yeah?" she asked, her gleaming eyes not too far away from his.

"Yeah…" Her face was getting closer, and he could feel her cool breath on his lips. She swallowed, pursing her lips gently and then puffing them back out. Oh, those lips. How badly he wanted to taste them. If only they weren't so far away…

Before he knew what he was doing, his mouth was clasped on to hers. She was pulling his face nearer, and his hands were exploring her back. How long had he wanted to be in the position he was in right now? How long had he wanted this? This one kiss?

They fell back onto his bed, her fingers moving through his hair and making him moan. How long ago had they been fighting? Five minutes? Two hours? A day? A week? A year?

Cassidy was getting lost in the moment, her eyelids fluttering open whenever she dared take a breath. Other than that, she kept herself attached to him, hardly even thinking it strange when his hands started exploring very, VERY unknown territory. What was he doing? She suddenly wondered. Where was this going?

But she didn't have time to think, and really, neither did he. They were a mix of bare limbs, tousled hair, puffy lips, breathy sighs.

And then, well, it just sort of happened.

...

George Harrison walked down the familiar street. He had tread this path many a time, and usually he thought nothing of it. But right now, he mind was racing. Tonight would be the twenty seventh attempt in his quest for Cecilia Farrell, and he was hoping that THIS time might be it.

But things hardly ever worked out George's way.

When the big, white house that stood in the center of the block came into view, George's heart quickened. There was someone, a tiny someone, sitting on the front steps, their shoulders hunched over and a light pink dress adorning their small frame.

"'Ello?" he called out, weaving his way up the Farrell's front walk.

The girl on the stoop looked up, her golden curls falling back to reveal her angelic face, which was current very wet and featured red rimmed eyes. "Go away," she hissed, though her voice was shaky and rough so it didn't have quite the effect she probably intended.

"Cecilia?" George asked tentatively. "Are you okay?"

"I said GO AWAY!"

That rhymed, George thought in his head. "What's the matter?" he actually said out loud.

Cecilia's face became sarcastic and bitter. "Nothing. Nothing's the matter. I'm perfectly fine, can't you see that? C-can't you…y-you…" And then her voice choked off, and a fresh wave of tears hit her, making her shoulders quake and sobs to emit from her mouth.

At once, George rushed to her side, sitting down next to her and gingerly putting his arm around her. "Shh…it's okay. It's all gonna be okay."

"No, actually, it's not," the girl replied, her voice thick and her tone pulsating. However, she made no attempt to free herself from George's arm, which he took as a compliment.

"What's so horrible, eh? You can tell me…"

Cecilia scooted out from under George's arm, turning her body so that she could look at him head on. "You wanna know what's so horrible? Do you REALLY?" she inquired in an aggressive tone, her eyes narrowed and her breath coming out shortly.

"Yes," George answered meekly. In truth, every single other time he'd come to Cassidy and Cecilia's house, he hadn't actually talked to the sister he WANTED to talk to for more than five minutes. She hardly ever had any time for him.

"My father is dying. He's DYING." She closed her eyes, shaking her head as though to reprimand herself for saying those words. "And my mother is acting like nothing worse than normal is happening. She's such a bitch…and really, I'm just like her."

"You're not a bitch, Cecilia," George whispered, his heart aching for her. He didn't know about her father, but he DID know that Cassidy wasn't very happy about her situation at home. Which was why she was at Paul's.

"Yes, I am. I know it. YOU should know it too, by now." She swallowed roughly, staring at her feet. "And I have to be perfect. I have to act like it's no big deal, I have to be the martyr. Cassidy is the one that gets to throw fits and act out and scream and yell."

"She does do a lot of yelling," George agreed quietly, never having met someone so passionate about every word she spoke.

"If she didn't, who the hell else would in this family?" Cecilia looked up at him, her eyes big and, for the first time George had ever spoken to her, trusting. "I wish she'd come home," she admitted in a small voice, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes.

George looked back at her, extremely conflicted. He KNEW that Cassidy wouldn't want him telling her sister where she was, but LOOK AT HER! How could he deny such a wounded, adorable face? It was damn near impossible! So, without thinking about it further, he took a deep breath.

"I can take you to her."

...

They had been at the prom for over an hour and a half when John decided it was time to put his little 'switching music' plan into action. He and Alley were sitting at a table, alone, listening to the drone of the annoying big band music and watching the few couples dance on the gym floor. Alley let her eyes travel across the room to the bar (actually a long table with a punch bowl, plastic cups and a few bottles of various types of pop). She watched as a boy (who she recognized as Ronnie Hartman) poured booze into the punch bowl as his whore-ish date, Marilyn Bent, watched with a gleeful expression.

"Idiots," she muttered, turning back to face a very bored-looking John.

"What?"

"Ronnie and that fucktard Marilyn Bent," Alley explained, jerking her head toward the table. "He's spiking the punch. I mean, really?"

John nodded in agreement and then a look of amusement crossed his features. "Did you just say fucktard?"

"Uh-huh."

"And what the hell does that mean?" he asked, lifting his head from his arm to fully look at her. His eye-brows rose as he waited.

"Well," Alley said; a smile of her own forming on her face. "Marilyn Bent is a fucking retard. I took the "ing" and the "re" out and that leaves me with "fuck" and "tard". Therefore, Marilyn Bent is a fucktard."

It was said with such perfect reasoning and so seriously that John couldn't help but laugh. His trademark, high-pitched, retarded-mouse-on-speed laugh filled their space, causing a few people to turn and look at them with expressions of disapproval and distain. Alley happily gave them the middle finger and they all turned away quickly. John, now since sober from his laughing fit, leaned closer to Alley so no one else would overhear, and said:

"I want to do it now."

Alley looked at him with a horrified expression. "What?"

"What?"

"Oh! The records you mean?" Alley asked, the realization hitting her finally.

"Of course!" John replied. Then his expression turned a bit devious. "What did you think I meant?"

"Nothing," Alley said unconvincingly, suddenly happy the lighting in the gym was so shitty. If John could see her face clearly, he'd think that he was looking at a bright red tomato.

"Right," was John's reply but he decided to drop it. He wasn't going to give Alley a hard time like he would normally give any other person. Mostly because his heart was racing in his chest at what Alley thought he meant. But he pushed his thoughts into the far corner in his mind. This wasn't the time. "Okay," he said, grabbing Alley's hand and pulling her up. "Let's go!"

"This should be fun!" Alley half-squealed, clapping her hands in delight.

"Hey!" he said suddenly and stopped, looking her up and down. "Did you get shorter?"

"No." Alley grinned sheepishly. "Well—kinda. I took my heels off."

"Now, now!" John said in a hoity-toity posh school teacher voice, wagging his finger at her. "What would Cassidy say?"

Alley crossed her arms defiantly. "She should be glad I didn't show up in jeans!"

John laughed and said, "Come on!" and pulled her towards the back of the gym. Slowly, after looking left and right, John pushed opened the door that had a staircase leading up to the room above the gym. When they got to the room and shoved open the door, they found Barry Salazar, a sophomore nerd, sitting in front of the turntable. When his eyes landed on John, he looked positively frightened. Alley couldn't help but laugh.

"W-w-w-what are you doing here?" Barry squeaked, nervously pushing his glasses up from the bridge of his nose. "T-this room is off-limits."

"Leave," John said in a dangerous tone, "and I won't kill you."

Barry squeaked loudly in fear and ran from the room without another word. Alley turned to John and laughed in disbelief and sheer amusement. He returned with a half-sheepish grin and a shrug.

"What?"

"Scary John Lennon!" Alley said and burst into a fit of loud laughter, slapping a nearby table from the sheer force of it.

"Hey!" John said in protest, putting his hands on his hips. "I _am _scary!"

"Yeah!" Alley said with a chuckle. She patted him on the shoulder as she walked past him. "Whatever you say Peter Pan!"

John chuckled and joined her at the turntable. It was set up almost like a jukebox would be. You put four records in and it played them one after another. With each record holding four songs each, they'd be able to get at least half an hour worth of music. Even longer if they sealed off the room and no one was able to get it. The songs would just kept repeating and repeating until they were physically stopped.

"All right," John said, taking the records from the back of his pants and laying them on the table. "What order?"

"Let's do Chuck Berry first," Alley replied. "Then Eddie Cochran, then Buddy Holly and end off with Elvis!"

John nodded in approval. He looked through the small window into the gym where everyone was. He abruptly ripped off the record that was currently playing and threw it against the wall. It shattered completely. Alley grabbed the microphone, disguised her voice and said,

"Rock and roll is taking over! Let's rock this joint!"

At that moment, John put the needle to the record and after a few seconds, _'Johnny B. Goode' _filled the gym. At first, people looked shocked. But when they realized what was happening, they got into it. Almost everyone got up to dance and in a few minutes, the place was jumping. The teachers and principal, however, looked furious. John and Alley sat there, looking down on all of them and laughing.

"We should go" Alley said, getting up. "How are we gonna lock the room so they can't get in and stop it?"

John turned and quickly put a metal chair under the door knob. The door was so heavy and hard to push open so the chair would hold for a while. John grabbed her hand and they ran through the back entrance, going down the stairs and stepping out into the night air. Once the door fully shut being them, they both let out a whoop of excitement simultaneously. Their laughter carried through the night air and lingered around them like a happy echo.

"That was amazing!" Alley said, laughing and squealing. She felt such a rush of excitement. Both she and John were laughing and their faces were glowing.

"Shall we go in and enjoy it?" John asked, bowing to her like a southern gentleman and taking her hand.

"Yes!" Alley replied, tried to curtsy, failed and then burst out laughing. "I want to hear the music and—it's cold and I'm wearing no shoes!"

John laughed and together, they walked into the gym—into the happy chaos they had created.

...

"This is it," George announced, standing in front of the McCartney house. The lights in the front room were on, and George had figured that Paul was at prom with that Marilyn Bent girl, so Cassidy would probably be all alone or with Mike. Either way, she would have to talk to Cecilia, because George hadn't brought her all this way for nothing.

"Who's she staying with?" Cecilia wondered aloud, looking the brick house up and down.

"Er…just one of our friends…I dunno know if you know him…" George wondered whether or not he should tell Cecilia who exactly it was. He knew that she would have heard of Paul McCartney, but he didn't know how much Cassidy had told her about him.

"HIM? She's staying with a BOY?" Cecilia sounded quite alarmed.

"Well…yes. But they're just friends, so there's nothing to worry about." George knew this wasn't the whole truth, however. If Paul had it his way, the word 'friend' would have never been brought up with Cass. But unfortunately, things hadn't gone Paul's way whatsoever.

"Just friends," Cecilia repeated incrediculously. "Right." And with that, she marched up to the front door, banging loudly upon it.

No one answered.

George remained rooted to the spot, thinking hard. It was sort of late…maybe Cassidy had already gone to bed? He was determined that Cecilia talk to her older sister, so he called out to her, "Come with me."

They walked around the house to the side where George knew Paul's bedroom was located. A light was on in the room, which George could tell from the ground.

"I bet she's in there…" George muttered, eager to not disappoint Cecilia. "I just gotta find a way to boost myself up."

Cecilia watching, he examined the bricks, picking a few out for foot holds. Then he began hoisting himself up. He didn't have to go far before he reached the first level windowsill, and he reached both hands up to steady himself on the concrete slab that jutted out from the window. He could JUST see into the room, and what he saw there just about made him lose his grip and topple to the ground.

Paul and Cassidy were lying under the sheets, his arm wrapped around her and him breathing deep and evenly with his eyes closed. Cassidy was lying tight against him, one hand placed on his arm and the other underneath her pillow. Her shoulders (the only exposed bit of her) were bare, as were Paul's, and her eyes were half open.

George couldn't believe his eyes. Just yesterday, weren't they insisting that they were only friends? Didn't Cassidy JUST tell him that she hardly even liked Paul?

Just as he was thinking this, Cass rolled over, her eyes focused on the ceiling. What was she thinking, George wondered. What was going through her mind?

One silent tear seeped from her eye, running down her face, neck, and chest. Her eyes slowly roved over to the sleeping Paul, and George could practically HEAR her thoughts.

'What will happen in the morning?' she was asking herself. 'Will he still be here?'

Wordlessly, George let go of the concrete, falling to the ground and landing lightly on his feet. He turned to Cecilia, who was looking at him eagerly.

"So? Was she in there? What was she doing?"

George swallowed, knowing now more than ever that me must NOT tell her the truth. For one, he didn't really even know the truth. For another thing, no one ever REALLY wants to know the truth. They may say they do, but really, they just want to hear good news. Nothing hurtful.

"She was sleeping, sorry." And then he turned around and walked off, not really sure of anything anymore.

...

It was nearly two hours later when the principal, two teachers and a janitor broke into the room above the gym. Until then, the same four records played over and over again while the students danced and yelled and had a great time. Now of course, there were always the few students who saw it differently—like the adults. They believed in the big band music and that everyone should act like carbon copies of the adults. Alley had no patience for such people.

When the door was finally broken down, the principal ripped the records off the turntable, brought them back to the gym and stood on the stage. The room was dead quiet as they watched the burly-looking principal, waiting for him to speak. Alley and John were near the back. They shared a quiet glance and then turned back to see what would happen next. The principal stood silent for a few moments, fuming with the records clutched tightly in his hands.

"Whoever is responsible for this," he said in an anger-filled voice, "will be severely punished!"

John crossed his arms over his chest, snorted and scoffed. Alley slugged his arm to keep him quiet but even she herself couldn't help but smirk. No one in the crowd said a word, save for a few hushed murmurs here and there. The principal growled angrily and thew the records to the ground. They shattered into a million pieces. John's eyes went wide for a few seconds but he said nothing. Then the principal rose his hand towards the window of the upstairs room. A few seconds later, the old, crappy music was back. Most couples left the dance floor and went back to their tables. Alley turned to John and shrugged.

"Well it lasted two hours."

John grinned. "I guess we succeeded then!"

"Fuck yeah!"

"Sorry about the records," she said, her eyes travelling to where the janitor was now sweeping up the remains of the shattered records.

"It's all right. All good plans have casualties!"

"If you say so!"

They shared another laugh and headed for the bar-table. Alley didn't care for the boozed-up punch so she poured herself a plastic cup full of Coke. John leaned against the table, waiting for her. After downing the Coke and throwing the cup away, Alley was about to speak when she was suddenly rudely interrupted.

"Looky , looky at what we have here!"

Marilyn Bent and the drunken Ronnie Hartman stared at them. John and Alley stiffened, both preparing for a fight with their respective counterparts. Alley couldn't help but gawk at Marilyn's dress. It was all pink and poofy and fluffy and...froofy. Alley thought she looked like Cinderella. If Cinderella was fake... and a whore. Together, she and Ronnie looked like an unnatural couple but they were the same type of person which made them perfect for each other. The rumour floating around was that Marilyn basically told Ronnie they were going together less than an hour before the prom. Alley guessed Ronnie was just that desperate.

"Look at the trash little couple!" Marilyn said; her voice high and giggly. She obviously had too much punch already.

"Is that the best you can do?" Alley asked, looking bored and unfazed by them. Really, she felt a little uneasy inside. John however, was scowling angrily.

"Trash like you shouldn't be here," Ronnie said, pushing John's shoulder. His anger started to rise but he still remained silent.

"Where's your little friend?" Marilyn asked. A stupid smile formed on her face. "Oh—that's right! She's too young to be here!"

Alley felt a sneer cross her face. "It's okay, though." She leaned forward and half-whispered, "She's with someone special."

That wiped the look right off her face and now Alley was the one to smile smugly. In the bathroom, Alley had overheard Marilyn talking to her friends about how she went to Paul's house to get him to go with her to the prom but he turned her down and how she was royally pissed off at Cassidy. Alley was just waiting to say something to Marilyn. Ronnie just stood there, a dumb look on his face. John was holding in the urge to laugh.

"That's his problem." Marilyn, flipping her hair back. "I'm sure your little friend does favours for him anyway. How else would someone like her hold his attention?"

Alley felt her hands clench into tight balls at her sides and anger boiled inside of her. Not only did Marilyn insult her and John but Cass as well. And you just didn't do that. Besides, Alley was just dying to get Marilyn back for beating up Cassidy at school. She felt a slow smile spread across her face; a mischievous smile.

"Hey! Bitch," Alley said with a smirk. "Do you like the punch?"

Marilyn looked puzzled. "What?"

"Didn't you and jock boy over here spike the punch?"

Marilyn didn't answer, Ronnie looked like he was starting to get really pissed off and John was trying in vain to hold his laughter in. Alley turned, grabbed the heavy punch bowl and without hesitation, dumped the contents of it over Marilyn's head. She screamed in shock and pure horror. Everyone in the hall turned to look at them and at the moment, the music was stopped. It was dead silent in the room and then all of a sudden, John's laugh rang out loudly through the gym and Alley's followed a second later.

"You bitch!" Marilyn screamed. The punch ran down her dress, it was in her hair and made her whore-ish make-up drip down her face in thick streaks. "Do something!" she screamed at Ronnie and stamped her foot on the ground. Ronnie moved forward and without warning, slapped Alley across the face. Alley gasped, not expecting it all. Her face stung where Ronnie hit her and she felt frozen to the spot. She had been hit many times before; it was true but never by anyone but Royce. Just knowing that there were other people out there like her step-father chilled her to the bone.

John was instantly overcome by anger and flew into a fit of rage, punching Ronnie so hard that he fell flat on his back; out-cold. Marilyn looked truly scared now. Alley put her hand on John's arm and was about to say something but she was interrupted for the second time that night.

This time it was the principal. And he was pissed.

"What is the meaning of this?" he bellowed, straight at John and Alley. "Do you two miscreants cause trouble wherever you go?"

"They started it!" protested Alley defensively. It was the oldest excuse ever but it was true in this case.

"What I saw, Ms. Diamond," the principal said, "was you pouring the entire contents of the punch bowl over Ms. Bent's head. And you," he continued, pointing his finger at John, "punching Mr. Hartman!"

"I guess you didn't see _Mr. Hartman _slap Alley did you?" John spat in disgust.

The principal ignored him and instead continued to glare angrily at the both of them. It was obvious what was going to happen next. It didn't exactly take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Alley and John were seen as trash—even to the principal—and they would get treated as such. Alley and John stood side by side, both with matching glares of defiance.

"Both of you are suspended for the next week."

And there it was. Judgement passed down on them once again. So Royce would be pissed and John's Aunt Mimi would probably kill him but nothing could be done; the sentence was clearly handed down. But to look on the bright side—they'd have a week off. At least they didn't have to work in the basement.

"So wait," Alley said. "We're suspended?"

The principal looked down on them like they were lowly peasants. "Yes."

"Gear," Alley replied and abruptly took a step towards Marilyn, pulled back her fist and punched her right in her pretty face, causing her to fall onto the still unconscious Ronnie. "That's for beating up my friend," she said and then spun and walked out of the gym door.

John, laughing to himself, made a face at the principal and gave the finger to the whole circle of students around them as he walked out to join Alley in the cool night air. She was leaning against the street lamp, her eyes shining with excitement.

"I didn't know you had it in you," John said with a growing smirk. "But that was fucking priceless!"

Alley laughed. "Well—she really pissed me off, ya know? She fucking deserved it!"

"Yeah," John agreed. Then his expression turned dark and his tone serious. "That fucking idiot hit you!"

"I'm fine!"

"But—"

"No buts!" Alley said, holding up her hand. "I said I'm fine and I'm fine. Let's move on." There was a brief moment of silence between them. "So—we're suspended again, huh?"

John shrugged. "What else is new?"

"Who cares!" Alley said with a giggle. "Who needs them? Let's get out of here and enjoy the rest of the night." She grabbed John's wrist and looked at the time on his watch. "We've got an hour before our 'curfew'," she said, using air quotations for the last word.

"There's a place," John said. "You can see the stars perfectly."

"Great!"

And so, hand in hand, they walked; both of them happier than they'd been in a long time.

...

**Catie's AN: Okay well...George is getting angsty. Haha but in all seriousness, I have a question for you all, and I would like it answered. If you don't answer it...I shall be upset. How long, on average, does it take you to read one of our chapters?**

**Addie's AN: Probably like... the better part of the day.**

**Catie's AN: Sorry, Addie, I don't actually remember asking YOU.**

**Addie's AN: And that's supposed to stop me?**

**Catie's AN: Yes, actually it is, you stupid whore.**

**Addie's AN: How about you go and fuck yourself ya little fucktard?**

**Catie's AN: Watch the language. There are children present (i.e. me).**

**Addie's AN: Don't expect me to be your babysitter! Besides, you can't pull the "I'm a child act!" Let me remind you that you are the one who wrote the sex scene!**

**Catie's AN: Whoa whoa whoa. I didn't even actually say ANYWHERE that they had sex. Is the word sex even IN this chapter? ...Except for the ANs?**

**Addie's AN: Oh okay so the characters being basically naked and kissing each other and saying 'it just sort of happened' means that they went and bought a puppy?**

**Catie's AN: You took that all out of context, you...you...YOU CREATURE! I never said they were naked! I said their shoulders were bare. And okay, they kissed. But seriously, YOUR characters kiss more than mine. And I thought 'it just sort of happened' was a whole lot better than saying 'and then Paul banged Cassidy's brains out'. Sorry. Next time I won't be so thoughtful with my word choice.**

**Addie's AN: All right, so it's better word choice. But it's pretty much heavily implied that they did the nasty. Get over it. And believe me, Alley will have something to say about that! My characters kiss more? Well it's because they are passionate and more... mature. They don't RUSH into anything. At least they didn't fuck each other... well not yet anyway...**

**Catie's AN: Not gonna lie, this is a very uncomfortable conversation. So...REVIEW! BYE!**

**Addie's AN: Just a little, maybe. But now I can give off a little rant of my own. I'd just like to say that I love GLEE and that my new word is 'fucktard.' And that... it's thanksgiving for me tomorrow and I'm excited! And... review, please! Ok byee!**

**Catie's AN: (okay, since I'm already gone, I guess I can't really be saying this, but imagine that I'm NOT saying this but I'm just in your head speaking to you as your conscience. Addie is a lame Canadian whose Thanksgiving is in October and who likes to think words like fucktard are funny. And I didn't say that. Because I'm already gone. So, review.)**

**Addie's AN: And Catie can go fuck herself.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Catie AN: So…okay, I KNOW how long it's been since the last update. And hell…it's been a LONG ass time, hasn't it?**

**Addie AN: Shit, yeah, it has. Let's just say ALOT has happened. Some happy, some sad- but what can you do? Hey guess what, I'm 20 now. Old, yeah I know. Anyway, I think you'll like this chapter... read on!**

**Catie AN: Fuck, I forgot you were so OLD, Ad! Haha, just do as the creepy pedophile says, and read the stupid chapter. I PROMISE that it'll be…well, at least a bit shorter than usual. And here's a George, to lighten the load. :^)**

**CATIE IS STILL HERE: I just wanted to say, this chapter is dedicated to Wribbet, because her reviews are the best things in the world. Seriously, sometimes what gets me through these long chappies is the reassurance that THAT crazy bitch will be there for some moral support at the end. So here's to you, Wribbet, because you're just sooo EFFING (that was for your sake) awesome.  
**

Cassidy woke up in a panic, a cold sweat on her forehead and her hair in a tangle on the back of her head. She felt like she'd just woken up from either the best nightmare she'd ever had, or a very, VERY scary dream. Either way, she was certain she'd imagined the entire thing.

That is, until a half-naked Paul McCartney entered the room.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed, yanking the covers up over her chest, her face burning with humiliation. Oh, sweet Jesus. When the FUCK did she become so damn stupid?

Paul, on his part, looked pretty alarmed. "What? What's wrong?" He gently set the steaming mug he was holding on the bedside table, then leaned forward, placing a light kiss on her forehead.

His breath smelled like coffee and cigarettes.

"What…oh, my God…we…shiiiiiiit…" She ran her hands through her hair frantically, trying to rid herself of the chilled, nauseating feeling that was running wild in the pit of her stomach. Her mind was whirring at the speed of light. Wasn't she supposed to enjoy this? Wasn't this supposed to be the adorable, awkward morning after? Wasn't she supposed to feel all glowy and in love? Well, newsflash, but she didn't feel too in love. She just felt sick.

"Cass, it's alright," Paul chuckled, gingerly sitting down on the edge of his unmade and thoroughly rumpled bed. "It's only me."

"That," she croaked, pointing a shaking finger at the accused boy, "is the problem."

He laughed again, shaking his head. Then, for the second time that morning, he began to lean forward, his hands reaching up. "You're so cute," he mumbled, his eyes focused down on her lips…

And then suddenly, the girl leapt from the bed, scrambling into any old clothes she found at the bedside. "I'm sorry, Paul…I don't know what I was thinking—shit, I wasn't even thinking at ALL, was I? This is wrong…fuck, we're only fifteen! MIKE was here!"

Paul took in Cassidy's frantic state, not knowing what to say. He wasn't used to this. "Calm down, Cassidy. It's only sex."

Cass's mouth dropped open, and she stared at him blatantly. ONLY sex? ONLY? How could he be so naïve? "What if we didn't use protection?"

Paul didn't say anything, staring at the girl. Shit. She didn't know, did she? He looked anywhere but at her bright red, freckled face.

"Oh, my God…" Cassidy breathed, taking a lot of meaning from his silence. "We didn't—you didn't—SHIT!"

She leapt from the bed, tugging on random clothes she found scattered around the floor.

"Cassidy, I'm sorry! It's just—it was the heat of the moment, we didn't exactly plan this, did we? And, it was just one time. It's not the end of the world. Nothing's gonna happen—"

His pleas for her attention were pointless; Cassidy wasn't even listening to him. She was now fully clothed, and throwing her OTHER clothes into a worn duffel bag. Somewhere during Paul's rambling speech, something had struck her. It was all she could think about right now. She had completely tuned out Paul, and his assurances, and could now only focus on what was going through her mind right now.

"—and we can fix this, I promise, nothing's gonna happen. We'll be alright. Me and y—"

"Paul."

He stopped talking, looking at her strangely, taking in what she was doing for the first time. "Are you…are you packing?"

"Yes."

He blinked. "But…"

"I made a mistake. I was running away from something that I should have just faced head on." Cassidy gulped, pushing a tangled curl out of her eyes. "You've been so great, letting me stay here and everything. I appreciate it, I really do."

"Just because we…just because…you know…that doesn't mean you have to leave," Paul said slowly, his eyes a little bit lost.

Cass closed her eyes, running her hands through her hair again. "We were way too young to do what we did. It's not just that…" She took a deep breath, opening her eyes and looking at him. "I need to be with my family. With my father, especially."

Paul sat down on the edge of his bed, looking dazed. "What if I had gone to prom last night? What if I hadn't stayed home and we hadn't done anything?"

"Then I would have realized sooner that I was being silly and I should go home and face my troubles." She gave him an odd look, reaching for the doorknob. "You know, just because I'm leaving doesn't mean that we have to lose all communication." She gave a short, unamused laugh. "We're not exactly strangers anymore."

Paul didn't smile. "What should I say? Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes. I'm going home."

And without a backward glance, the door closed with a light thud.

…

For the first time in two weeks, Cassidy pulled open her front door, tossed her bags inside, and took a step into her gleaming, sunny, lemony smelling house. She couldn't have been more disgusted.

Even with that normal reaction, she knew upon entering that she had made the right choice. Everything at home looked so…clean. Undisturbed. Like the entire time she had been gone, all her mother was able to do was organize things and clean things and make it look like no one lived there at all. It was all begging for her to run an angered hand through it. So, as she started to make her way towards the stairs, she swiped a hand through the neat pile of mail that sat on the hallway table, smirking as she went.

Cass took the stairs two at a time, anxious to collapse onto her waiting bed. There it stood, just as it had for the previous fifteen years of her life. The fluffy comforter was tucked in neatly, and her room looked like it had been bulldozed by a legion of maids. Her mother REALLY needed to get a job.

She fell backwards, letting her head bounce up and down once she had hit the mattress. Ahhhhh. She had missed this, she really had. At Paul's, things were so fast paced. Everyone was always doing something with someone else at so many different times.

Paul. Wow, what was she going to do about that? She had almost totally forgotten. She wasn't a virgin anymore. That was pretty crazy, she had to admit. She didn't really FEEL any different…well, maybe a bit sore. And a bit dirty. Like she needed a really, really, REALLY hot shower to wash the grime off of her, even though she'd already taken one this morning.

Fuck, what would Mam say?

Cassidy didn't have any time to contemplate this, however, because at just that moment her thoughts were so rudely interrupted by a tiny little _ahem _coming from her doorway. She sat straight up, the blood rushing slightly in her head, and focused on the small, blonde person standing in the accused spot.

"What?" Cassidy asked warily, tucking a curl behind her ear.

Cecilia glared at her, her hands firmly placed on her hips. "That's the greeting I get after you mysteriously disappear for two entire weeks?" she hissed, her upper lip curling.

"Sorry?" Cassidy tried, attempting to scoot back on her bed so that she could slide under her covers. But again, Cecilia seemed to have different plans for her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Mam said dinner's in fifteen."

Cass frowned, listening carefully to her words. "Mam's home? And she heard me come in? I wonder why she didn't say hi…"

"Um, because the last time you guys talked you wouldn't let her say anything at all and then you stormed out of the house." Cecilia spoke slowly, as though her older sister was five years old.

Cassidy sighed, sincerely hoping that Mam would have forgiven her for that by now. She wasn't naïve enough to think that all would be magically forgiven, but she hoped that her mother would be mature enough, for once, to put it behind them.

"She's still mad?" Cass bit her lip, already knowing the answer.

Cecilia snorted. "Are you still a flaming bitch?"

Ouch. Welcome home, Cassidy.

….

George Harrison was sitting dejectedly on Cassidy's front step again. She couldn't just LEAVE him there, could she?

"George," she said, walking out the front door and sitting down next to her sullen little friend, "can't you just leave the whole Cecilia thing alone?"

George sighed, resting his head on his open palm. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. There's just something…special, I guess, about her."

Cassidy scowled. She was honestly tired of hearing about how special her little sister was. How pretty Cecilia was, how smart Cecilia was, how popular Cecilia was, how successful Cecilia was gonna be. Cecilia, Cecilia, Cecilia. What a bitch.

"She's not all that great, you know. Not in ANY way, actually."

George stared at his feet, the silence emanating from him practically SCREAMING I beg to differ. He knew, somewhere deep in his heart, that the only thing special and unique about Cecilia was that she had a sister who let her have that spotlight, but who could easily take it away at any moment if she wanted. But George didn't realize that yet, and it would be a long while before he finally did.

"I just like her," he admitted quietly. "When she's mean…when she acts stupid on purpose…I dunno. I don't mind it, I guess. And then when she's nice…and when she shows how brilliant she really is, I just feel even MORE attracted to her. She's like an angel, sen—"

"George?" Cassidy interrupted, her eyes reduced to slits.

"What?"

"I REALLY don't want to be hearing this right now."

George chuckled dryly, smiling absently at his intertwined fingers. He was searching for something to say, something that didn't involve Cecilia or his life outside the little world that Cassidy knew about.

Cass was staring out in front of her, and suddenly, this creeping feeling from somewhere in the pit of her stomach gripped her, and she realized something; if she couldn't trust Cecilia with this secret, then she had to trust SOMEONE.

"I had sex with Paul last night," she blurted out. Oh, the tact of Cassidy Farrell. It was legendary. It would go down into the history books as what was probably the most skillful, creative tact of all. It was just that good, as was demonstrated by young Cassidy's outburst.

George blushed deep red at the word 'sex' and tried to avert his eyes as much as possible from Cass's. He could NOT let her know that he already knew that. That would be the most horrible fate ever…he wouldn't wish that upon his worst enemy!

"O-oh?" he stuttered, trying to sound only mildly interested, like this wasn't a huge deal and he hadn't witnessed it the very night it happened. As if he wasn't totally scarred.

"Yeah…I mean, I don't even know what I WANT with Paul. It just sort of…happened. I tried to tell Cecilia, but she's mad at me. And I haven't even seen Alley today, so that's whatever. She's probably with John. Knowing them, they've already shagged so much her vag looks like a—"

"OKAY!" George jumped up from the steps, backing away with his hands in the air. His face was a dark shade of red, and his nostrils were flared dangerously wide. "Well I gotta go…er…blow—I mean, show—my er…my brother hoe—how!—to um…ride his…bike."

And then he was off running, leaving Cassidy alone on her front porch steps, wondering what the HELL just happened.

…..

Alley walked down the street briskly, wrapping her jacket around herself. She was still tired from prom the night before- her and John spent hours under the stars; gazing at them and sometimes having deep and meaningful conversation. If anyone had asked her, even though she would never admit it aloud, that was the moment she fell in love with John Lennon. Head over heels in love. She felt the nee

d to speak to Cass; to tell her all that had happened- including the run-in with the bitch Marilyn Bent. It was mid-morning when Alley approached Paul's house and she stepped up to the door and rang the doorbell. She was greeted with silence from the other side. It was strange, she thought to herself, that no one was home.

George walked at a constant pace, his head filled up to the brim with thoughts. He was in town anyways (he was on another Cecilia Mission this morning) so he thought he'd stop by and have a little chat with Paul about the goings on of last night. He was really upset with his friend, truth be told. Cassidy didn't REALLY like him like that, did she? In George's opinion, things were moving much too fast. He walked up the front walk, looking up to see who inhabited the house at the moment. He could usually tell just by the lighting, but unfortunately, there was a person blocking his way. He reached up, tapping the said person on the shoulder, and asked, "Er...hi. Are you looking for Paul?"

Alley spun around, a bit startled but relaxed when she saw it was only George. "Oh...umm... George... hi." She looked back at the door (by now it was clear that no one was home) and then back to the tall, lanky boy in front of her. ``Yeah. And Cass, actually.

Cass. Cassidy. Cassidy Farrell. Sister of Cecilia Farrell, AKA Girl of His Dreams (Literally). He swallowed, trying to force down the memories of what he saw last night before they popped back into his mind. Ughhh. "Er...Paul's not home then, I guess. Actually, I think Cassidy might have gone home, too." Why wouldn't she go home? She was CRYING as she lay in bed with Paul.

"How can you be sure?" Alley asked, looking at him quizzically and leaning against the ledge of Paul's veranda. She studied the boy in front of her. He was definitely very shy and he hardly looked at you in the eye when he talked. But there was something on his face- something he wasn't telling her. "You know something, don't you?"

George cleared his throat, wondering if he should be the one to spill the beans. It wasn't like Cassidy planned on keeping this a secret, was it? Paul and Cassidy were going to be together, weren't they? They HAD to be. It would be weird if they weren't, right? And besides, Cassidy would have told Alley eventually. His mind still working furiously, George answered slowly. "Well...er...I came by last night."

Alley nodded, gesturing for him to say more. By the look on his face, she knew for sure now that there was something he was trying to avoid saying aloud. Oh God, she thought... they couldn't have? No, it wasn't possible. Cassidy would never do that in a million years. Not at her age. Right?

"And what else?" She asked impatiently.

"And..." George was wondering how to word this so he sounded as innocent as possible. "Well, Paul was busy, so he couldn't answer the door."

Alley felt her breath catch in her throat. She forced her voice to sound normal. "Busy doing.. what?"

"Cassidy."

"W-w-w-w-w-w-w-what?" Alley managed to sputter out. Despite the sun shining in the sky, she could swear she heard thunder crash loudly above her. "They- they had sex?"

George cringed, only managing a nod. Okay, so he shouldn't have told her. But it was a little too late now. "Cecilia wanted to see Cassidy, so I took her to Paul's...and then I looked in Paul's window and they were sorta...lying next to each other...and they were all...you know, naked and stuff."

"Okay, okay, okay, okay, wait!" Alley said, raising her hands up. She felt the world was spinning slightly around her and she couldn't quite get a grasp on George's words. "You're saying that Paul and Cass... had sex? With each other?"

George narrowed his eyes, feeling one of his rare, witty moments coming on. "No, I'm saying that Paul and Cassidy had sex with themselves."

"That would be better," Alley said, struck-dumb.

She blinked a few times and shook her head. She felt like she was going to have a hard time of picking her jaw up from the floor. She was in shock- she couldn't believe it. Paul and Cass? She and John never even... well they almost but they never... She shook her head once more and tried to regain some control. "That's just so... wrong," she said.

George nodded slowly. "Yeah...but then again, I guess they can do whatever they want."

"Apparently!" Alley said. She took a breath and sighed, there was no reason to freak out on George. He didn't do anything and by the look on his face, Alley knew he felt the same as her. She gave George her best smile and patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks George. Sorry, but I gotta run. I gotta talk to someone!" She ran down the porch steps, giving him a small wave before walking towards the street.

George stared after her, wondering just what kind of monster he had just unleashed.

…

Leaving George, Alley walked down the street in complete and utter shock. She didn't want to believe what she was just told—her mind was rejecting the information and the image that went along with it. The air was beginning to get chilly and Alley had to pull her thin black jacket around her tightly. She didn't notice that she was wandering onto the street and when a car angrily honked at her, she jumped back onto the curb. _Get a hold of yourself, girl, she_ scolded herself silently and took a deep breath. She had to go somewhere and tell someone. He was the first person that popped into her mind.

Nearly half an hour later, she was standing on his front stoop, one hand rapping lightly against the solid wood door. There was a bit of rustling inside, the sound of clanking dishes, and then the door was pulled open. John's aunt Mimi stood before her, dressed nicely in a crisp blue skirt and white blouse. Her hair was done perfectly—she looked so elegant. Alley had met her only a few times—the first being in the principal's office after she and John had been caught breaking in.

"Hello," Mimi greeted, not smiling but sounding nice enough.

"Is John home, Ms. Smith?" Alley asked politely. She stood as straight as possible and tried to look half-decent. Alth0ugh a girl wearing pants and oversized glasses probably didn't look very posh.

"Yes," Mimi said after a few seconds. After a few more silent moments, she stood aside and let Alley walk in. "John!" she called up the stairs. "Your little friend is here!"

Alley heard a noise upstairs—someone jumping off the bed and walking—and a second later, John appeared on the top step. His hair was messy and his white t-shirt was wrinkled and half-pulled up. Alley guessed he had probably been taking a nap. At first, he looked surprised to see her but a smile quickly formed on his face. Mimi excused herself and went back into the small kitchen. John motioned for her to step out onto the porch. Despite the mildly chilly air, John seemed to be fine in only a t-shirt.

"Hello," he said finally, breaking into a full grin. He sat on a chair and pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. He offered her one and she took it gratefully. "What'cha doin' here, love?"

Alley shrugged as John lit her cigarette for her. She took a long drag and blew out the smoke slowly, watching as it drifted up into the sky. She thought about what George had told her only a little while before and she shuddered at the image it brought to mind. She did NOT want to think of Paul and her best friend that way. It was so….wrong. John, smoking his own cigarette thoughtfully, wondered what was making Alley act so funny. Usually she'd always have something to say.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" he finally asked, watching her bite her nails.

"Paul and Cass slept together last night."

John stopped moving, his cigarette halfway to his mouth. He looked shocked for a few seconds and then burst into loud laughter, slapping his leg and wiping the tears that fell from his eyes. Alley was staring at him with her hands on her hips and her eye-brows raised high. She didn't understand why he was so amused.

"John—why the fuck are you laughing?"

"Paulie finally got her!" John said loudly, still cackling. He found this terribly funny and at the sight of him, Alley could help but laugh. Okay, so maybe she overacted.

"It's just too weird!" Alley said, hoping up on the porch ledge and settling herself on it. "They're so young!"

"Paul's had experience!" John said, waving Alley's comment with his hand. Alley looked at him like he was completely stupid. "What?" he asked in confusion.

"You thought Paul was…." She paused, trying to think of a proper word. "….practiced?" John nodded seriously and she chuckled. "Boy, someone sure pulled the bloody wool over your eyes, didn't they?"

"Fuckin' wanker!" John said, slapping his hand against the chair. "The little shit told me he had done it before!"

"He probably wanted to keep up with you!" Alley said dryly, rolling her eyes. One of the few things that bothered her about John was his reputation with women. She had heard many stories and rumors and each one bothered her more and more. But it shouldn't right? It's not like they were together- right? To ease the confused on John's face, she added, "Not everyone starts having sex at five years old, you know!"

"Hey!" John said, looking defensive. "It was six years old, I'll have you know!"

Alley chuckled and shook her head. She could never understand boys and their attitudes towards sex. It was like they had to impress each other by saying that they made it with a girl. And of course, they were congratulated and praised and looked at like heroes. But girls? Shit no, they were different. Sometimes, even if a girl slept with one guy, she was deemed a slut or a whore and would probably have that was one of the biggest double standards Alley had ever seen. And she was worried about Cass and what this would do to her if people ever found out. She would be made fun of and called all sorts of names. Alley did not want that to happen to her best friend—especially by that jealous bitch Marilyn Bent. She could only imagine the rumors she would start. John was staring at her intently as she was deep in thought. She chuckled in apology when she realized.

"I was just thinking."

"About?"

Alley shrugged. "Just thinking." She began to chuckle. "I can't believe Paul fooled you!"

"Little shit," John muttered, shaking his head. "I'm giving him bloody hell next time I see him!"

"You're going to give _him _hell?" Alley asked, a grin spreading on her face. "I'm going to heckle Cass until the cows come home. And then while the cows are still here. And then until they leave again!"

They shared a laugh and then it was silent. John took out another cigarette-which Alley turned down this time-and lit it. He thought about for a while and then pointing his cigarette at her, asked,

"How'd you find that out?"

"Oh! George told me," Alley said matter-of-factly.

"Who?"

"George Harrison," Alley explained, biting her nails. It was a nervous habit. "He's Paul's friend. And Cass knows him 'cause he's always going after her sister."

John squinted as he tried thinking if he threw George on at least heard of him. Finally, he came up with nothing. "Never heard of the bloke," he said with a shrug.

"He's younger than us—even younger than Paul," said Alley, jumping off the ledge. "He's a good guy. Great guitar player too, apparently."

"Oh yeah?"

"Apparently," Alley said with a shrug. "Never had the opportunity to hear him play." She stretched out and headed for the porch stairs. "I should go now," she said, turning to look at him. "I gotta be home."

John nodded in understanding. His aunt was absolutely pissed off that he was suspended yet again. He could only imagine what Royce's reaction was. Alley didn't look like anything was the matter with her but John caught the small winces as she moved a certain way. It angered him and shook him to the core but there was nothing he could do about it. So he just let it go. For now.

"I'll see you later, yeah?" she said, giving him a small wave and heading down the drive.

John watched her as she walked, all the way until she disappeared around the bend. With a final sigh, he went back inside.

...

"It'll be later, Mimi!" John called over his shoulder as he left the house. He shut the door behind him with a loud bang and started down the walk.

The last time he had gone to see her was over a week ago—possibly two. It wasn't that he didn't want to see her; quite the opposite actually. It was just a weird experience and the way he felt when he saw her always startled him. He loved her and he cared about her- he just wasn't used to the relationship yet. Sighing to himself, he picked up his pace a little. The ever-dark sky was getting even darker and it looked like a rough storm was on its way. John didn't fancy wetting his hair—the one Aunt Mimi was always after him to get cut—so he half-ran the rest of the way. When he finally arrived at the little, ramshackle house, it had just begun to rain; big, fat drops on the hard cement. He knocked.

"Come on!" he said to the air around him, not wanting to be outside when the rain really started coming down. Again, he rapped three times on the door.

This time he heard a soft voice saying, "I'm coming!" and a second later, the door was opened. When she saw John standing on her porch, her face lit up like the sun on a hot day. She reached out to hug him and then ushered him inside, away from the cold rain. He watched as she fussed about, trying to tidy the place a little. Her hair was loose and wild and she was dressed in a well-worn skirt and blouse. She smiled at him and led him into the living room. He sat down in one of the over-stuffed chairs while she ran into the kitchen to get cookies and drinks. When she returned, she placed the food on the tale and sat down across from him.

"There we are," Julia said, taking a cookie for herself. "It's so good to see you, John!"

John smiled and looked around. It was strangely quiet. Usually the house was bursting with sounds; laughter and other noises of fun. He took off his leather jacket and draped it over the arm of the chair and then leaned back. In this house, he felt a mix of comfort but also longing; the anger that built over the years. He felt good in the house—here with her. But he also felt like he had missed out on so much. He should have had this all his life—maybe if he had, things would be different. He wasn't quite sure if it was a good or bad thing. Julia was watching him; admiration and love filling her bright eyes.

"Where's Bobby?" John asked suddenly. "And little Julia and Jackie?"

"Bobby took them out," Julia replied in her usual happy tone. She leaned forward, placing a hand on his knee. "How are things, John?"

"Fine, I guess," John replied with a non-committal shrug. It was true enough. "Me and Paul have been writin' some stuff."

Julia's eyes lit up. "Oh! That's wonderful, John!"

John shrugged again. "I guess."

"What have you been doing with yourself?" Julia asked excitedly, wanting to keep the conversation alive.

"Got suspended," John admitted with a wide grin. "Again."

Julia gave him a look of disapproval but there was a smile threatening to break out on her face. "John!" she half-scolded. "What did Mimi say?"

"She said I'd better get my bloody act together," John replied. He felt a little stab of anger now. "She threatened to break my guitar!"

"Oh John!" Julia shook her head, a small smile on her full, red lips. "What on earth did you get suspended for now?"

John grinned sheepishly. "Me and this girl—"

"Ah!" Julia said knowingly. "A girl!" She leaned even closer now like they were telling secrets. "Who is this girl?"

"Alley," John explained and his heart jumped a little when he thought of her. "We were at the prom. And we got into a fight with these two fuckin' wankers!"

"Language, John!" Julia lightly scolded. Then her face glowed like a gossip-hungry school girl. "Do you like this girl?"

John shrugged. He never let himself admit his feelings for Alley—not even in his own mind. He felt himself freeze up at the question and he didn't know how to answer. So he said the first thing that entered his mind.

"Paul is dating her best friend Cassidy."

Julia knew Paul. They had met a while back. Julia was on board with their musical aspirations and even let them practice at her house whenever they wanted or whenever Mimi kicked them out. Julia was always welcoming; she baked for them and cooked them meals and even offered her musical advice every once in a while. John was grateful for this although he did feel pangs of jealousy when he saw Julia talking with Paul.

"Well!" Julia said, clapping her hands happily. "We must have them over!"

John raised his eye-brows. "What?"

"Invite them over tonight!" Julia replied with a broad, excited smile. "It will be fun! You and Paul can play for us and I can meet your lady friends!"

John didn't know what to say so he just chuckled and agreed. It sounded like it would be a good time. Julia told him to call Alley so he went into the next room an dialled her number. After three rings, a gruff male voice answered.

"What?"

"Is Alley there?" John asked, his whole body tensing up angrily as soon as he heard Royce's voice.

"Who is it?" Royce's voice was slurred and it was clear that he was well past drunk.

"A friend."

Royce grumbled something to himself and yelled for Alley. John heard her approach the phone. After a hushed argument, her voice finally came on the line. John felt time times happier when he heard her voice and his whole body relaxed.

"Hello?"

"Hello, love."

"Oh!" Her voice seemed to considerably brighten. "Hi John!"

"Are you busy tonight?" he asked, deciding to be straight and to the point. Alley coughed and cleared her throat at the other end.

"Nope," she said truthfully. "I was planning to go see Cass. You know, give her hell!"

"Perfect!" John said happily. "Why don't you and Cass come to my mother's house tonight?"

"Your mother?" Alley asked with some confusion. She knew John saw his mother and spent time with her but hearing it sounded strange.

"She wants to meet you girls," John quickly explained. He leaned against the wall and smiled at Julia as she passed by and ruffled his hair. "Paul'll come too."

"Ooh!" Alley squealed suddenly. "Can we please give 'em hell together? Oh my God please?"

John chuckled. "Sure. Come at seven." He gave her the address and some directions quickly. "See you later, then."

"Bye."

John hung up and went back to sit with Julia. He felt good; real happy. He wanted Julia to meet Alley. It would make it- more official somehow. Sighing happily as Julia put on a rock and roll record, he relaxed back into the chair. Life was good.

….

Alley skipped up the stairs to John's mother's house, humming the song she had stuck in her head all day. She felt nervous, although she didn't know why. It wasn't like she was dating John or anything. Ignoring her butterflies in her stomach, Alley rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, the door swung open and she was greeted by a beautiful woman in tight red pants and a white blouse. Alley looked down at herself somewhat subconsciously. Her tight black jeans were frayed at the bottom and nearly ripped at the knees and her red and white shirt was half-faded. Julia's smile was warm though and Alley felt less nervous. When she walked into the house, Julia too her black leather jacket and hung it up.

"Hello," greeted Julia with a smile. She grabbed Alley's hand and squeezed it. "It's so nice to meet you!"

"It's nice to meet you too Ms. Lennon," Alley replied just as John entered from the right. His black shirt was rumpled and his hair stood out in a million different directions. Alley guessed he was probably sleeping.

"Oh please!" Julia said, waving her hands in the air. "Call me Julia!"

"Don't you got something in the oven?" John asked, scratching his chest. Julia made a surprised noise and ran off, promising to be back in a minute. John led her into the living room.

"She's nice!" Alley said as she looked around the living room. It was small, quaint and very homey. Alley liked the atmosphere; it was so unlike her own house.

"When's Cass coming?" John asked, groaning slightly as he stretched and leaned back into the couch. He had a newspaper in his hand and was squinting at it. After looking at her tentatively, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses; slipping them on quickly. They were just like Alley's- black, thick frames like Buddy Holly wore.

"Hey!" Alley squealed and then laughed. "We so match now!" John smiled and agreed. The question he had asked her before dawned on her just then. "Oh yeah," she said. "Cass is coming soon; with Paul. I think."

"I thought you'd be coming together," John observed, throwing the newspaper onto the small coffee table. "You girls are always together, aren't you?"

Alley shrugged. "I wanted to get here first." Her eyes were twinkling with mischief. "You know, so we can plan some things to say."

"Makes sense," John agreed with a growing smile. He leaned forward now, his elbows resting on his knees. "Are we gonna give them a hard time, then?"

"Oh fuck yeah!" Alley said loudly then turned to see if Julia had heard. She was bouncing a little in the big chair. "But don't say anything to make 'em think we know! Say stuff like…. _'Oh Paul you look tired, how did you sleep last night?' _or _'Hey Cass, I think there was an earth quake last night. Did you feel your bed shaking?' _Stuff like that, you know?

John full on laughed now, slapping his hand on the table. "I'm going to enjoy this!" He and Alley exchanged grins. "But we wait for them to break! Okay?"

Alley nodded in agreement just as Julia stepped into the room. She had on a flowered apron and her hair was wild around her shoulders. She smiled at them and glanced at the silver framed clock on the wall. With her hands on her hips she asked,

"Where are those friends of yours?"

Just then, the doorbell rang loudly throughout the house. John and Alley looked at each other and their grins grew impossibly wider. Julia ran off to answer.

….

Cassidy walked down the street towards John's mother's house, her eyes on her feet. On the outside, she looked cool and confident, but on the inside, her heart was beating at the sound of light. She was about to see Paul for the first time since they...well...won the Humpy Dumpty award, and she was nervous as all hell.

Paul came down the street, his eyes glued to the house that was his target. He had been here many times before, but this time seemed especially nerve-wracking. He was going to see Cassidy for the first time since she ran out on him, and he was scared as fuck. He marched up the stairs, and moved across to ring the doorbell, but just as he was reaching up, he heard footsteps behind him. He rang the bell, then turned around.

"Cassidy," he said, trying to sound causal and careless. "What's up?"

She scuffed her shoe against the wood on the porch. "Nothing..." Her face burned bright red. Couldn't she find something better to say? She looked up at him, finding that he was already looking at her, and immediately flushed even darker and looked down. What was the matter with her?

Paul opened his mouth, trying to find something to say, but for the first time in his life, he was speechless. He was saved the task of having to start up the conversation, for just then the door swung open.

John was leaning against the door frame, watching them with that smirk. Before he opened the door, he and Alley were watching them walk up to the door from the front window. Laughing together, they were enjoying the awkwardness between their respective best friends. Now, standing before them, it was all he could do to keep himself from bursting into loud laughter. "Paulie, Cassidy!" he greeted with a chuckle. His smile turned sly and his eyes were sparkling now. "Both of ya are bloody late! What have you been doing?"

Both Paul and Cass's mouths fell agape, wondering if John knew the real meaning behind his words. Paul cleared his throat, trying to gather himself. "We've...er...been out here, waiting for your lazy ass to let us in, of course."

Cassidy nodded in agreement, her mouth having gone rather dry.

John smiled knowingly but didn't reply. He turned back into the house so they would follow and sat down beside Alley on the small couch. The only other possible seats left were the stuffed chair and another loveseat directly across Alley and John. Since there was a red coat draped over the armchair-signifying that someone was sitting there- the only option for Paul and Cass was the small loveseat. Alley and John shared a look and nearly lost it right there.

"Hey guys!" Alley said, putting down the drink that she had just spilled onto her shirt. She swore and wiped it off quickly before it could stain. Not yet looking up at the two she said, "You guys were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago." She looked up at them now, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Were you guys busy-or something?"

Paul and Cassidy both followed John in, not saying a word. When they saw the choice of seating, Cassidy closed her eyes and briefly shook her head, while Paul sucked it up and sat down, putting his arm along the back of the loveseat to make room for Cass, who sat down next to him grudgingly. She didn't like the way he didn't have the balls enough to mention what they did, and she sure as hell wasn't gonna do it.

Paul leaned forward, grabbing a drink off the tray on the coffee table before them. When Alley used that particular word choice, Paul nearly choked on his drink. Cass shot him a look of pure death, then answered her best friend. "Well...er...you know. We had to walk and...stuff."

"Oh, so you guys came together?"

"NO!" Paul said, a little bit louder than strictly necessary.

Again, Cassidy shot him a look and rolled her eyes. She was getting more disgusted with him as the minutes rolled by. He obviously didn't handle pressure well. "No, we didn't." Thinking back on Alley's words, she blushed again. At this point, she thought she'd never return back to her normal skin tone.

It was silent for a few seconds and John was sure Paul and Cass could see his grin. He covered his mouth and coughed to hide it and took a breath, trying to compose himself. He stared longingly at the drink on the table- he was so thirsty. But he knew if he took one sip, he would send it flying across the room. He looked at Alley to see if it was his turn and when she nodded ever so slightly he felt utter glee flow through him. "You know what I heard last night?" John said to no one in particular. "A Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On!"

Nodding over to Paul and Cass he added, "Didn't you guys hear it too? It was around- oh- later in the night. It was bloody loud!"

Paul and Cassidy both stared back at him, completely wide eyed, words failing both of them. Paul was silently begging Cassidy to say something and save them as she had the past two times, but Cass didn't seem able to say anything. The fact that every time Paul looked at her, the only thought that came to his mind was that he had seen her naked didn't really help the situation, either. He took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. "N-No...I don't know about Cassidy, but I didn't hear that."

"Oh come now!" Alley said, waving her hand at them. "You musta heard it! It was pretty fuckin' loud. Loud enough to shake the house!"

Cassidy literally thought she was going to cry. It couldn't be more obvious that they knew. But HOW? The only person she had told was...George. Shit. And he hadn't taken that too well, had he? "Well, neither of us heard it, as far as you know." She hoped that would be sufficient enough an answer to get the two of them the fuck off their backs.

John shrugged. "You musta been too fuckin' busy to hear it. I'm ashamed of you, Paulie! I would think you'd do bloody well to keep up with rock and roll!"

Paul stared at him blankly. "Uh...what?" Cass cringed in fear of what was coming next.

"The song, Paulie!" John said with over-exaggerated exasperation. "Jerry Lee Lewis- Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On!"

"It's only one of the best songs around now!" Alley added, throwing her hands up. She cocked her head to the side, her eye-brows raised. "What did you think we were talking about?"

Before Paul could put in another stupid remark, Cassidy spoke up. "The song. We BOTH knew you were talking about the song, right Paul?" She nudged him sharply in the side.

"That's right," he said, "we did."

John and Alley nodded, both with matching smirks. Cass and Paul were pretty much busting at the seams and they didn't know how much more of this they could take before their laughter got a hold of them. Alley was inwardly screaming and dying to get the laughter out. John had to always look away from them to keep his laughter in check. This was, without a doubt, the most fun they'd had in a really, really, REALLY long time. And they would milk it for all it was worth.

"So guys," Alley said, her expression somewhat serious now. She leaned forward to grab a cookie from the plate on the coffee table and took a thoughtful bite before continuing. "Did you guys by any chance feel the bed shake last night?"

At this, Paul started in with a loud, spontaneous coughing fit, his whole body bending over and his head ducked into his chest. Lucky bastard, Cassidy thought. He gets to escape this one. "No," Cass answered plainly, unable to form full sentences anymore.

"Oh," Alley said with a thoughtful nod. "That's weird. Because I'm tellin' you- I thought there was an earthquake last night. My bed started shaking like crazy and my fuckin' framed Buddy Holly picture fell off the wall! Crazy I tell ya!"

John got up and started slapping Paul on the back. "Are you all right there, Paulie?"

Paul shook his head, now hiding his burning face in his hands, in answer to John. No, he most certainly was NOT alright. This was a living hell. "That's crazy," Cass replied blandly, taking a sip of her drink to try and add some moisture to her incredibly dry mouth.

John shrugged and went to sit back down, daring to take a quick sip of his root beer. Everything went fine and it ended up in his stomach as oppose to all over the coffee table. Alley subtly tapped his leg with hers. It was his turn. And it just kept getting more and more fun. "So," he said, wringing his hands in his lap. It was getting hard to come up with something good. "I'm sure you heard about what we did last night." He put his arm around Alley and squeezed. "We were a big hit last night weren't we? What did you guys do to keep yourselves occupied?"

"W-We...er...you know-nothing much, erm, j-just sorta-aaahem-hung out, and all that..."

"Get on!" John said with a loud scoff. "Fess up, son!" He leaned forward and in a weird, contorted voice said, "You can tell us if you did something naughty!"

Paul's nostrils flared wildly, and he was biting down hard on his lip to keep from screaming. This was horrible. As soon as Cass realized that Paul didn't plan on answering John, she stepped in. "Oh, please, John. Could you keep your dick in your pants for like five minutes?"

"What's the point of keeping it there?" John asked with a smile and leaned back into the seat. Alley let a chuckle slip but quickly turned into a cough. She looked at John with pleading eyes as if to say, 'we gotta get outta here now!'

Cassidy shook her head with disgust, ignoring the dying boy next to her. "Where's Julia?" she finally asked, filling the harsh silence that had fallen over them.

"Oh," John said, looking around as if he just noticed his mother wasn't there. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly eight. "She went to the store to pick up a few things." Finally catching Alley's pleading stare he added, "Alley- come with me- over there-I need to get- something-over-there."

Alley nodded and stood up, clearing her throat. "We'll be right back." Quickly, they both ran from the room while trying to hold in their laughter.

…..

"Holy shit!" Alley managed to squeak out loudly after John pulled the door shut behind them. They had run into the bathroom and both were trying not to burst into loud laughter.

"I can't fuckin' take this any longer," John said with a small laugh. "I was ready to burst in there!"

"I know, I know!" Alley replied, trying to desperately catch her breath. "We're so going to hell, you know that right?"

John grinned and leaned against the sink. "I had a feeling."

"I feel so bad doing this," Alley said. "But—it's so damn funny!" She collapsed against John's chest, laughing until her stomach hurt.

"Okay, okay!" John said, taking a breath and making his face serious. "We gotta get back out there!"

"Yes!" Alley agreed, making her expression stony and un-amused. It was hard and she could already feel her face cracking. "But don't let them know we know! We _have _to keep it going until they spit it out! And then…. we can yell at them!"

Again they laughed for a few seconds and then left the bathroom quickly, walking back into the living room and taking their seats. It was time for round two.

…

Paul and Cassidy immediately looked at each other. "They already know, why not tell them?" Paul pleaded, his eyes sorrowful.

Cass shook her head quickly. "Are you kidding? Do you know how much worse it would be if we admitted it?" she hissed, giving him a scathing look.

Paul crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine, we won't tell. But just so you know, it isn't helping that you're acting as though you would rather be anywhere else."

"That's because I WOULD rather be anywhere else," Cass said, checking over her shoulder to make sure John and Alley weren't listening in.

"So that's how it's gonna be?" Paul asked, not able to keep the hurt out of his voice.

"Listen, Paul-what we did was stupid and rushed, and-" But she never finished, because at that moment she heard footsteps from the hallway and immediately shushed herself, looking away from Paul and facing forward.

John and Alley walked back into the room, both wearing matching expressions of seriousness and calmness. This time they were determined to not break and to keep this going for as long as they could. It served Paul and Cass right for not telling them in the first place. And besides- it was fun. Situating themselves onto the small, brown couch, they waited for Paul and Cass to say something. John was sure they would crack now. But when they didn't, he felt himself smile widely on the inside. Round two of operation torture Paul and Cass it was. Taking a long drink from his glass, he observed, "You two look tired. Right, Al?"

Alley stared at them intently and nodded. "Yeah, yeah you guys look exhausted!"

Cassidy narrowed her eyes. She knew that Paul was weakened, but she would NOT crack. "Really? Because I feel fine. Great, as a matter of fact." Beside her, Paul nodded fervently.

Alley shrugged. "I don't know. You just look tired is all. Did you both get enough sleep last night?"

Cass swallowed hard. "Personally, I slept fine. Paul?" 4

Paul didn't look at her, instead staring out in front of himself at nothing. "Oh, just great."

"Paulie?" John asked, looking at his friend straight it the eyes. His expression was still serious and there was not even the tiniest hint of a smile or smirk anywhere.

"What?" Paul said, not quite looking him right in eyes, instead having his vision hover over his friend's left eyebrow.

"Where did you fit Cass in your house?" John asked seriously. There was still no hint of any expression on his face. "Last time I slept there, I had to sleep on the fuckin' floor!"

"My bed," he answered quickly, thinking that was safe enough. Immediately, he flushed scarlet, his words seeming less innocent then he meant them. But really, he wasn't even the slightest bit innocent any more, was he?

"But I've gone back home now," Cassidy rallied quickly.

"Yeah!" Alley said with a shake of her head. "Thanks for telling me! I came looking for you this morning and you weren't there!" She couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face just then. "I ran into George actually."

Cassidy's stomach dropped out. Oh, fucking hell, George! WHY did he have to tell Alley? "O-Oh really?" Cass faltered. She had to admit it; her resolve was dissolving. "He have anything interesting to say?"

"Quite a few things actually," Alley replied, nodding her head and biting her lip to keep the laughter out. "He's quite a nice fellow, he is."

"Sometimes," Cass breathed bitterly.

Paul seemed to have caught onto what was going on. He scowled. "Bastard..." he muttered, but only loud enough for Cassidy to hear. She nodded in agreement.

John looked a bit confused. "Who's George?"

"Harrison," Paul and Cassidy answered at the same time. "He's a good friend of mine and Cassidy's," Paul clarified.

"Oh," John said, nodding. He had never heard of this George Harrison before. But soon, he forgot about it. There was still the task at hand- making Paul and Cass break down shamelessly.

Cassidy glanced at the clock. "Um, unless Julia's coming soon, I REALLY should be getting home..."

"She's coming back soon," John assured Cass.

An awkward silence imposed on all four of them, the elephant in the room stomping around like mad. Cassidy fidgeted in her seat, her hand accidentally brushing Paul's thigh. She blushed and turned her body away from him, thoroughly embarrassed.

John and Alley dared not to look at each other. They both knew that if they did, they would lose it and just burst and give themselves away. But they didn't know what to say next. Alley just wanted to scream at Paul and Cass that they knew what they did and to just come out with it. But she couldn't do that. Paul and Cass had to be the ones to break.

Cassidy crossed her arms, staring resolutely at the door and trying to will Julia to come home. Paul, however, was having a desperate internal struggle. End this misery; his brain was begging him, PLEASE. Just keep quiet, his heart told him, that's the only way to win Cassidy over.

"Cass," Alley said, stretching and making a small noise as she did. She downed the rest of the coke in her cup and then grabbed for another cookie. She was sure hungry this evening. "Tell me the truth- did you hear any banging last night?"

Cassidy had honestly thought they were over this. "No, Alley, I did not." She looked forcefully into her eyes, then looked at John, daring him to say something.

"Really?" John asked thoughtfully. "Because I swear there was some loud banging last night-"

"OKAY, FINE!" Paul exploded suddenly, sitting bold upright, his eyes wild. "ME AND CASS HAD SEX LAST NIGHT! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR?" Beside him, Cassidy slunk low into the loveseat, her elbow on her knees and her face in her palms.

"Well now," John said in a controlled voice. "They finally said it."

Alley nodded. "Fuck! Finally!"

And then, without any more moments of hesitation, Alley and John burst. Laughter came out of them like water rushing down a river. Their bodies were shaking and convulsing and tears were streaming down their faces. Words couldn't make their way out of their mouths and breathing soon began hard. Alley and John were gasping and holding their stomachs.

Paul and Cassidy exchanged identical looks of mortification mixed with anger, then crossed their arms and waited for their friends to be done laughing

"Why is that so funny?" Cassidy finally asked, edging away from Paul because she could no longer stand to be so close to him.

"Because-," Alley said between gasps. "It's- so- funny! We- we- tortured you-into-telling-us!"

"Yeah," John added, gasping for air. "So fucking hilarious!"

Paul leaned in close to Cassidy, saying loud enough for the other two to hear, "Isn't it sad that we did it before them?"

Alley and John stopped laughing when they heard that but they were smirking. "Really?" John asked, his eye-brows raised. "I'm not sad, are you Alley?" So maybe he was burning inside just to touch Alley, especially after they almost- but he wouldn't let it show.

Alley shrugged. "No I ain't sad, John." She looked at Cass and Paul straight on. "It just means we aren't sluts. Well, John is, but that's different."

"Gee thanks," John said dryly.

Alley grinned and patted his shoulder. "No problem."

Cass rolled her eyes. "Like doing it ONE times makes us sluts."

Paul cleared his throat, rather hoping she wouldn't bring that up. He had never directly told John he was a virgin, but then again, he hadn't ever told him he WAS.

John laughed again, shaking his head at Paul. "You fuckin' wanker!"

"I was actually expecting you to say something along the lines of 'Did you wear protection?'." Immediately, he wished he hadn't said it. He remembered the conversation from earlier that day, and he was still revelling in the fact that he could be so stupid.

"I don't give a fuck what you wore!" John said, still smirking. He lit a cigarette quickly and pointed it at Paul. "You always made it seem like you were fuckin' birds left and right! You little shit!"

Alley felt a weird sensation in her stomach. "Oh my God- did you wear protection?"

Cassidy and Paul looked at each other again, not really wanting to answer that one. "Now comes the lecture," Cass sighed, leaning back into the loveseat. She hardly even noticed that she was leaning against Paul's arm, but he certainly did.

"Yeah, I'll fuckin' say!" Alley said, her smile disappearing a little bit. She wasn't totally serious but she did fell somewhat upset that her friend had sex at 15. "First of all- you're too fuckin' young and why the hell would you do that? I mean, honestly! If you get pregnant- God, that'll be the end of your lives!"

John just shrugged, not having much to say. He couldn't really yell at Cass and Paul. God knew he'd done it enough times to be yelled at himself. He watched Alley yell at them with an amused expression. She was like a little mother chastising them and it made him laugh.

"It's not like we were like 'Oh, tonight seems like a good night to swipe some v-cards!'." Cassidy rolled her eyes, even though she herself had that sick feeling in her stomach again. "We didn't PLAN this."

Paul felt like he should add something, but the truth was this was making him immensely uncomfortable. "Ahem...yeah, well, if Cassidy gets pregnant then we'll get married. It's not THAT big of a deal." This, of course, was the biggest lie he'd ever told, and that was saying something.

Nobody said anything for a second, and he noticed that Cass's eyes were fixed on something over John's shoulders. He turned his head slowly, dreading what he was going to see, and a pang went off in his stomach.

"Hello, you must be Cassidy," Julia said.

**Catie AN: If I am not VERY much mistaken, this has bound to lose Paul points with Julia. And Cassidy, too, if you think about it. What say you, Oh Creepy Pedo?**

**Addie AN: First of all... 'Oh Creepy Pedo'? Fuck off, child. Anyway... I agree, totally. Julia will never look at the little sluts the same again.**

**Catie AN: THEY ARE NOT SLUTS! Does using drugs one time make you an addict? Drinking one time make you an alcoholic? Nah, it just makes you damn STUPID.**

**Addie AN: Okay, so they are stupid then. I mean, they are young and they slept together. Do you see Alley and John (the actual man whore) doing anything? Nope, I don't think so.**

**Catie AN: That's because John's ugly.**

**Addie AN: Yeah, tell me another one. John is sexy. Oh so sexy. I mean with the voice and the face and the voice and...**

**Catie AN: …you spelled Paul wrong.**

**Addie AN: No... you spelled John wrong. Can't you do anything?**

**Catie AN: THING I CAN DO THAT ADDIE CANNOT DO: 1. Recognize true beauty. 2. Run three miles without stopping. 3. Create swear words off the top of my head. 4. Play the piano. 5. Spell Paul right. (it's P-A-U-L, not J-O-H-N)**

**Addie AN: 1. You wouldn't know true beauty if you were face to face with it. Oh look, there's John. 2. How the fuck do you know? 3. Listen, fuck tard, I'm the queen of making up words. 4. Shut-up. 5. It's actually J-O-H-N. I know you're young but I thought you could at least spell in kindergarden.**

**Catie AN: (I think Addie's feeling threatened.)**

**Addie AN: Of course I'm not threatened, dear. (I just want to reach through the fucking computer and smack Catie.)**

**Catie AN: Look, she's called me dear. (One sign that a person is feeling threatened, is that said person uses a condescending tone.) Before Addie can kill me, I have to go…you know…breathe, and stuff. Happy reviewing! :^)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Addie AN: **Hi everyone! Shit, it's been so long since we've written anything hasn't it? Well let's just say school and life has been insane for the both of us. But hey, here we are, with a new chapter that is sure to set you on fire. Or- make you happy. Whatever. Read on!

**Catie AN:** I don't know what kind of sick, cruel, sadistic person is going to be happy by this chapter, unless they hate Cassidy with a burning passion. HA! I just thought of something. Addie, ask me what I thought of.

**Addie AN:** Happy in the sense that it's gonna blow them away. What did you just think of Catie?

**Catie AN:** I shall tell you at the end of the chapter. (That's incentive for you to read this, by the way.) WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?

**Addie AN:** YES! FUCKING READ ALREADY!

...

"Oh my God!" Alley groaned exaggeratedly, looking up to the heavens. "God, shoot me please! I'm so fuckin' bored!"

John shook his head and chuckled amusedly at her while trying to pick out a tune on his guitar. It was a nice day—unusual for the old rainy weather that was always going on in England. Today the sun was actually shining and giving off a little bit of warmth that contrasted the cold wind that swept around them. As John was intently staring at his guitar, his glasses on and his mind focused, Alley groaned again and hung upside down from the tree they were sitting under. It was only eleven in the morning and she was already dying from the lack of something to do. It was the first day of their suspension and John and Alley were sitting under a big tree in an abandoned field John frequently visited when he needed some alone time. One would think they would be happy having a week off and to some extent it was true but Alley could easily grow bored and she always needed something to do.

"John," she said but he didn't look up. He was too much into his guitar. She decided to try again. "John!" Still not a word or even a glance from him. Growling to herself, she flipped herself over, away from the tree and landed on her feet in front of him. With her hands on her hips she said loudly, "LENNON!" He raised his eye-brows to show that he heard her but still made no move to look up at her and speak. "I'm gonna smash that bloody guitar over your head if you don't put it down," she growled finally, glowering down at him.

With another chuckle, he strummed a few more times just to get on her nerves and then gently laid the guitar next to him on the browning grass. He took off his glasses, folded them and stuck them in his pocket. God knew he was as blind as a bloody bat but did he wear his glasses? No, of course not, why would he do a fool thing like that? Resting his elbow on his knee, he looked up at her and grinned playfully.

"Is there somethin' I could help ya with, love?" he asked, the smile remaining in place. Alley rolled her eyes at him and plopped down next to him.

"I'm bored."

John stifled another amused chuckle. "And what do you reckon we do?"

"Something fun I suppose!" Alley replied, crossing her arms over her chest. Sometimes she fell into certain moods, feeling depressed for no reason. Well, really, it was her boredom making her this way.

"What's fun?" John asked, lighting two cigarettes and handing her one. She took it gratefully and they both smoked in silence, the smoke curling around their faces and forming a cloud around them. "There's nothin' to do around here that I haven't already done a thousand times before."

"Fuck! I know!" She shook her head in dismay and took a long, silent drag. She was thinking, letting her mind wander away. What could they do that was fun and something they've never done before? All their lives they've lived in the same place and it had become tired. Nothing was new, nothing was exciting anymore. If only they could go somewhere new where there were new things to do. If only they could-

LIGHTBULB!

The idea struck her, flashing lights in her brain like a bright neon sign. She flicked her cigarette into the grass and spun around quickly, grabbing John's arm. He looked a bit startled from being ripped out of his own thoughts but he saw the excited light in Alley's eyes and became quickly intrigued. She was beaming now, practically bouncing up and down on the ground. John was urging her to tell him what her big idea was.

"Okay so listen," she said, speaking rapidly and motioning with her hands. It was the little bit of Italian blood in her that made her do so. "We want to do something fun right?"

"Correction, love," John said, holding up a finger. "YOU want to do somethin' fun. I'm perfectly content sitting here." Chuckling at the look she gave him he added, "Continue on!"

"Let's get outta here," she said finally, a big smile on her face. For her, a big and actual smile was rare and it only showed how excited she actually was.

"Come again?"

"We're suspended for a week, aren't we?" Alley explained. When John nodded she continued. "So what's keepin' us here? We don't have to go to bloody school, do we? Let's go somewhere, do something! For a few days at least! We could go to Blackpool!"

John was beginning to grin that grin that most certainly meant trouble. Alley could see the wheels turning furiously in his mind. "But we can't do that. Surely, we'd worry our family." He was saying serious and true words but his voice betrayed a different tone. "And what about Paul and Cass? Oh, they'd be worried. Won't they come looking for us?"

"Oh they'd be more than worried!" Alley replied, nodding her head and grinning. "They'd be frantic! They might even go searching for us. Together."

"And we couldn't have that now could we?"

"Oh most certainly not," Alley replied with a shake of her head. "We couldn't do that to our friends."

Sitting there under the tree, the scheming pair grinned at each other; they didn't need to say anything because they both were thinking the exact same thing. Alley raised her eye-brows and John nodded back. It was set; official. Off they would go without saying a word to anyone.

Paul and Cass would just have to deal with it.

...

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Paul padded to his door, leaving his abandoned guitar and notebook in the family room where he'd been working minutes previously. He wasn't too terribly concerned at Mike or his dad looking at some rather…revealing, you could say, lyrics, because he was positive his visitor was just John coming over for a little after-school practice. Well, it would be after school for him. Not John, obviously.

But when he wrenched open the door, he found that rather than John, he was face to face with someone who made his heart leap into his throat.

"Is she here?" Cass demanded, already storming in and checking the previously vacated room for signs of whoever the hell she was looking for. Paul hurried ahead of her and just managed to scoop of his notebook before she walked in.

"Who are you looking for?" Paul inquired as Cassidy began sweeping from room to room in search of…whatever.

"Alley," she answered shortly, not even knocking before entering Mike's room. Why on Earth Alley would be in Mike's room was beyond him, but maybe Cassidy had some alternate reasoning. Or maybe she was just desperate.

"She lives two doors down, not here," Paul said slowly, pulling Cass out of his brother's room and shutting the door gently behind him. "Now, what's got you so frantic?"

Cass collapsed with a defeated sigh on Paul's couch, hardly thinking about the way she had felt last time she sat in this exact same spot. "She's GONE, Paul. I've been to Julia's, Mimi's, AND Royce's, and she' not there. PLUS I've been to our diner, and John's spot that he likes in that field with that tree down on Harrington. I can't find her."

Paul bit his lip uneasily. "Yeah…now that I think about it, John said that he was going to be here about two and a half hours ago."

"WHAT?" Cass exclaimed, her eyes as round as coins. "And you didn't think that was something important to tell me? I bet they've run off together." Her mind suddenly started roaming to the millions of possibilities of where they could be. "I bet they've been sleeping together for months, and she's pregnant. And the reason she didn't want to tell me is because…I dunno—John's on DRUGS and he's been feeding them to her, too, so there's gonna be something wrong with the fuckin' baby! Oh, God, not the baby! What does she HAVE if she doesn't have the baby?"

"Cass, you really need to calm down."

"By now they could be anywhere—but no, they wouldn't just go anywhere. Alley's always talking about going to New York City…fuck, Paul, they're probably already on a plane headed to the States!" She ran her hands through her curls, trying to sort out the wild thoughts that crashed around in her head. "Okay, this is what we'll do," she told him carefully. "We'll take my dad's car, drive to London, and from there we'll—"

"Cassidy, seriously, you're overreacting."

"Can you IMAGINE? John and Alley; lost, homeless, cold and hungry, pregnant on the streets of New York City. They probably—"

"CASS—SHUT UP!"

She immediately stopped talking, gazing at him as though betrayed.

"It's no big deal. We'll just…we'll just look around Liverpool for them. And if they're not here and don't show up by tomorrow then...we can try Blackpool. John has always loved it there." Paul gave her a steady look in the eye, knowing that she was still pretty much frazzled. "It'll be fine, trust me."

"It better be, Paul. Because they SECOND it's confirmed that Alley's been impregnated by a druggie, it's your ass."

...

"So this is the famous Blackpool?"

Alley stood next to John, her hands on her hips as she surveyed the scene around her. She didn't really know what to expect of Blackpool but she had heard many stories. Blackpool was supposed to be this dark, seedy place where a bunch of crazy shit happened but to Alley, it looked like another town. Then again, things do change when the sun goes down; the freaks always came out at night. John, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stuffing his hands in his coat pockets, sighed.

"What did you expect, love?" he asked. "Fuckin' Buckingham Palace?"

Alley scoffed. "Fuck off, Lennon." John just chuckled and she pulled her coat around her. "Where are we gonna sleep?"

"Last time I was here I slept on a bench."

"Yeah, well," Alley said, raising her eye-brows, "that's not gonna fuckin' happen."

John smirked. "I never reckoned you as a high-maintenance bird."

"I'm not!" Alley replied, feeling a little offended even though she knew he was only kidding. "I came here to have fun—not to freeze to death!"

"Okay, okay," John said, his hands raised in defence as he chuckled. "I know a place. Come on!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the street.

Less than ten minutes later, they were standing in the small room of a rather seedy motel. John brought them there, paid the bald man with the missing teeth a few quid and led her into the room. The room itself was tiny and cramped. The wallpaper was peeling and you had to let the water run for at least five minutes before it stopped being brown. And it wasn't even hot. There was one dresser, one night stand and scariest of all—one double bed. Alley set her small bag down by the door and tentatively stepped further into the room. John was turning on the lamp, trying to see if it worked.

"One bed," Alley said, staring at the lumpy-looking bed with the dusty red blanket. "That's- wonderful(!)"

"Oh please!" John replied, plopping himself down on the bed and patting the spot next to him with a smile on his face. She rolled her eyes and sat beside him. "This could be fun!"

"Forget it you man-whore!" Alley said, laughing when he adopted a look of mock hurt. "We're just sleeping!"

"Fuck!" John said, pretending to look huffy and upset like a child who didn't get his way. "You could always sleep on the floor you know!"

Alley smacked him playfully. "You should be more nice!"

"Why?"

"Because," Alley said, turning on her side to look into his eyes. "When you're famous, people will write books about you. Now, do you want to be remembered as '_John Lennon the man-whore bastard' _or _'John Lennon the nice musician'?_"

"I don't give a fuck!" He grinned widely. "Everyone will love me!"

"Well it's good to know you're not conceited!"

They shared a laugh and then just like that, they were kissing. It had just happened- maybe it was the prospect of being alone or maybe it was because they were going to be sharing a bed. Their kiss lasted a long while and when they finally pulled away, Alley was breathless.

"Hey!" Alley said, jumping from the bed and heading for the bathroom door. "We should go! Start living it up!" She didn't wait for answer but disappeared into the bathroom instead.

John groaned aloud and threw himself back into the pillows. Every time he and Alley kissed, he felt a mix of emotions run through him at once. He liked her—he really liked her. Maybe he ven loved her. But nothing was happening with them—all they did was kiss. And they both weren't relationship people. Sure, John went with other girls but no matter how hard he tried, Alley always entered his mind and floated through his dreams. A few times they came so close but nothing ended up happening. And it was secretly killing him inside. They both liked each other but both were too shy or too scared to admit it. And it would ultimately lead them to never being together.

John sighed again and looked up at the ceiling. He was glad now that the shower in the bathroom had no hot water. Over the next few days, he was definitely going to be needing cold showers.

...

It was decided that they would start to look after school.

Cass, for one, was in a panic all day. She still hadn't been quite normal after the whole prom incident, and Alley disappearing was just really, REALLY not what she need right now.

She spend the whole of last period English—which she usually shared with Alley—scribbling down places her friend might be, and her intricate, _mature _brain was already trying to find ways of going without Paul.

Oh, God.

THAT was a subject that she really didn't want to think about. Paul…well, fuck, of course she still liked the pants off of him, but things were so awkward and strained, and she was starting to feel a natural pull away from him. Maybe tomorrow she would wake up and be ready to have a relationship with him—if that was what he even wanted—but as of now? Not so much.

On top of that, her mother was being as big of a flaming bitch as ever. Sometimes Cassidy thought it would be better if she was just crying her eyes out all the times. Hell would freeze over before that would happen, though. Cecilia and her had seemingly teamed up to become the Dream Team of Wonder Bitches.

With all of that, her father was not getting better—worse, if anything. His face was getting paler, he smiled less and less every day, and he had started to cough a dry, heaving storm up on a regular basis. Cass was so worried, and she tried her best to mind him whenever she could. But her mother always ushered her out of the room when she was finally alone with her father, or Cecilia would could busting in whining about how horrible her day at school was and go on to complain about it.

And now Alley decided to go missing. Alley—who still didn't know about her father—was her reliant. Someone who would always listen. But that was for shit, apparently, because she as now gone.

The bell rang.

Why does it always seem that when you wanted to get somewhere fast, people always slowed down around you? Like, they sense that you're in a rush, so they do everything they can to make you late. Just to spite you. If Cassidy wasn't such as kind, patient, caring person, the slow-ass loser right in front of her wouldn't have lived a second longer. AS it was, he was already being bulldozed to the ground by a 120 pound teenage girl.

Luckily, Cass got to her locker without any fatalities. Unluckily, Paul was already there waiting for her. No doubt Alley had driven the two of them together on purpose. It was exactly the sort of bullshit she had come to expect from her best friend. Stupid bitch.

"You get any sleep last night?" Paul asked conversationally as Cass shoved books into her locker.

"No." Deadpan. Monotone.

"You should have," Paul scolded, walking next to her as she slung her bag over her should and started to walk towards the doors. "Knowing John, we have a looooooong day ahead of us."

...

Alley found her suspicions of Blackpool to be true when they stepped out that night. The light of day made Blackpool look tame much like Liverpool or any other city really. But when they night covered the city in darkness, the freaks really did come out. People of all sorts walked the streets, most of them drunk and finding contentment in yelling at anyone who looked at them. Alley, never really frightened by much, was feeling jittery as she walked down the street. John, on the other hand, wasn't the quite bit fazed. He told her before that he always liked to sneak away to Blackpool. It was another one of this 'alone time' places.

"What's fun to do around here?" Alley inquired, her eyes darting from place to place as they walked.

"They've got clubs around here," John offered. "You know, bars? Most of the time they've got fuckin' good bands."

"Like the places the Quarrymen play in?"

"Fuck—hell no," John replied, stopping and leaning against the brick wall. "We place dance halls, love!"

Alley shrugged. She didn't see the difference. Surely it didn't matter where they played as long as they played good. And they were good- Alley and Cass watched them play a few shows and she always left entertained. But John was never satisfied. He always wanted to do better, to go higher and higher. At the rate he was going, he probably wouldn't be happy until they reached the Ed Sullivan show and had a ton of hit records. Alley didn't doubt that they would get there someday.

"So?"

"I'll be right back," John replied finally. "Stay here."

"Where are you going?" Alley demanded and mentally kicked herself for sounding so scared.

"I'm gonna talk to a friend," he said tentatively, looking towards the club across the street. "See if he can sneak us in. Just fuckin' stay here."

Not bothering to wait for her to answer, he took off than disappeared around the side of the club. Leaning against the wall, Alley observed everything around her. She felt a little freaked out over being left alone but she was determined not to let it show. She wasn't a stupid, whiny little girl who looked to men to help them. She could handle herself just fine.

"Well—well—what do we got here?"

The voice came from the alleyway on her night and she jumped when she heard the gravelly voice. It belonged to a dirty older man with rotting teeth and tattered clothes. The smile on his face was creepy and way too suggestive for Alley's liking. He held a brown paper bag in one hand and tried to touch her hair with the other. She jerked way and he laughed at her discomfort. The man was past drunk.

"What's the matter, girlie?" he slurred, taking a step towards her. Alley nearly gagged at the stench coming from him.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Alley said in a warning tone. Her voice shook a little.

"Come on now!" Don't you want to have a little fun?" he asked, grinning and stepping closer.

"No!"

The man laughed and didn't seem to hear her. Again, he came closer and Alley began to really get freaked out. When the man tried to grab her shoulder, she reacted. She grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Then she pushed him as hard as she could. He hit the light post and crumpled unconscious to the ground. John was just making his way back to her. He had seen the whole thing.

"What?" Alley asked, when she saw his expression.

"Remind me to never piss you off," he said, looking down at the unconscious man with eye-brows raised.

"Shut-up!"

"Come on!" he said with a chuckle. "We gotta get in through the back."

"Good! I could use a fuckin' drink!"

**(a few hours later)**

Stumbling from the now over-crowded club, Alley and John laughed loudly, their voices carrying through the night air. John was used to drinking by now and it hardly affected him anymore. Alley was doing okay holding her liquor but she was feeling a little tipsy. It was strange that she let herself drink and get drunk. Living with Royce made her see the bad and evil side effects of alcohol and she swore she would never be like that. But now, she felt like letting go and escaping for a little while.

"John! Johnny John John John!" Alley called, practically skipping over to him. It seemed that the alcohol had lifted her veils and lowered her protective walls, causing her to act happy without hiding emotion.

John chuckled, flinging his arm around her as they walked down the Blackpool street. "You're fuckin' happy, aren't you?"

Alley nodded and put her head on John's shoulder. It seemed that they could do and say things they'd be too scared to do when they were sober. But they weren't the stupid kind of drunk either—the kind where you start acting like a chicken or something. Both John and Alley knew what they were doing and they would remember everything the next day. They walked in silence for a few minutes after that until they reached the pier. In the distance, they could see the lights of the fair flashing. They decided before that they would be going to the fair the next day. John and Alley leaned over the rail, looking down into the calm water. The stars were shining brightly and the air wasn't as cold as it was before.

"I like stars," Alley said in her happy drunken state. "They shine very bright! I like when it's bright!"

"I'm gonna be up there one day," John said matter-of-factly.

"Uh huh!" Alley cocked her head to side and her brow furrowed as she thought. "Unless we do enough bad things to get sent to hell."

John scoffed. "We aren't that evil!"

"You are," Alley said laughing in an unusual high-pitched tone.

John grinned and nodded. "Maybe."

"Are you happy, Johnny?" Alley asked suddenly. She was serious now.

"I guess," John replied with a shrug. "Maybe. I mean you can't fuckin' tell can you? It comes and goes, doesn't it?"

"I guess you're right," Alley replied with a thoughtful nod. "All this stuff is crazy. Life is weird."

"Aye, I reckon it isn't."

It became silent again. They were watching a small boat cross the water. Alley didn't know how much time had passed in silence before John said they should go back to the motel. It was way past midnight and they were both drunk and tired. Their night had been fun and eventful. They watched the band play in the club and they were great—loud and pure rock and roll. Then after that they nearly got into a bar brawl with a man twice his size but overall, it was a fun night and Alley couldn't ask for anything better.

When they finally arrived back to the motel, they collapsed into the bed fully-clothed and fell into a deep sleep.

...

"John...wake up!"

John groaned but opened his eyes. The light from the window was blindingly bright and he immediately shut his eyes with a pained groan. Alley understood exactly how he felt and returned his groan with one of her own. They had fun last night, sure but now Alley was silently pleading for death. They were experiencing the worst part of a fun night spent drinking—the hangover. John was used to it by now, although it still felt horrible- but Alley swore right then and there that she would never drink again. Of course, that wouldn't really be true- it was only her pain that made her think it.

"Kill me John!" Alley groaned and tried opening her eyes a little. It was still too bright. She groped around the nightstand for the sunglasses she brought with her and slipped them on.

John chuckled lightly; it took some effort. "It's not that horrible, love."

"Fuck. Off. Lennon."

John laughed again and Alley half-heartedly hit him. They stayed still and quiet for a while after that, both trying to fully wake up. Alley felt happy—despite the pain in her throbbing head- and she was grateful that John had gone with the idea of coming to Blackpool. Truthfully, Alley needed the time away from her life; away from everything. Her life at home was hardly a happy environment and her family (if you could even call them that) wasn't what you would describe as a normal family. It seemed to her that the only time she was even truly happy was when she got away from it all. There was really nothing going for her there—no one who really mattered enough to make her stay.

But she immediately mentally kicked herself for thinking such a thing. She had Cass—her best friend in the entire world. Cass was always there for her and was always willing to help her. Alley knew she didn't help things by pushing her away. No matter who she was with, whether it be Cass or John or her mother, Alley couldn't get herself to open up. There were so many feelings and thoughts raging inside her but she always forced them down and pushed them away, instead choosing to be indifferent and stony. It seemed like if you choose not to feel then you can't get hurt. Sometimes she wished she could pick up and leave; start a new life somewhere no one knew her. But she couldn't leave Cass—they needed each other.

And then there was John. Alley turned to watch him. He had closed his eyes and drifted into sleep again. Alley watched as he breathed, his bare chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. When he slept, his face took on a complete transformation. There was no angry sneer or look of perpetual hurt on his face, like the world had let him down. He looked completely peaceful and at ease. The poor bloke, Alley thought. His life was much more complicated than hers; he hid so much pain and anger inside of him. He never showed it either—in that sense they were very much alike; two kindred spirits drawn to each other. But she suspected that John was more broken inside; for more broken than she.

Alley didn't want to stop the moment. She wanted to stay here in the quiet stillness forever. But like everything, it had to end sooner or later.

"John?" she whispered, nudging him slightly. He stirred, groaned and turned to look at her. She propped herself up halfway, shielding the light from her eyes. "We should get up now."

"Mm-hmm."

"And get dressed."

"Uh-huh."

"And take a whole bottle of aspirin."

"Oh fuck yeah."

Alley chuckled, wincing a few times when her head protested and then finally stood up. Her head felt a thousand pounds heavier and she felt the room spin for a few moments. When she was positive she could walk without falling and injuring herself, she made her way to the bathroom to get washed and dressed. John pulled himself from the bed a few minutes later with another annoyed groan. He grumbled to himself as her tried to pull on his jeans with her eyes closed. Whose bloody idea was it to go out drinking anyway?

Oh right. It was it his.

...

Twenty eighth was the charm, George told himself.

Surprisingly, it was Cecilia who answered the door, not Cassidy. That was unusual. Then again, Paul wasn't in town (according to Mike, who could be a faulty source) so maybe they went out together.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice a little thick.

George looked up from his feet for the first time since ringing the doorbell, a slight frown on his face. Cecilia had mascara track down her smooth, pale cheeks, and her eyes were rimmed with red. She held a tissue in one hand and the door handle in the other.

"I wanted to ask if you'd—"

"Jesus Christ, can't you tell I'm not in the mood?" she hissed, already moving to slam the door.

Before she could, George asked, "What happened?"

She hesitated, the door only open a crack at this point. She seemed to be deliberating, as though she had SO many things she'd rather be doing. Finally, she reopened the door and took a step outside.

"I suppose Cassidy's already told you about our father?" When George just raised his eyebrows and shook his head, she continued. "Well, he's dying. Just about dead by now, actually. I'd give him a month, tops."

George winced at her blatant harshness.

"But, it's just…I don't really have anyone to talk to about it." She glanced at George out of the corner of her eye. "Someone I WANT to talk to about it, I mean."

George nodded slowly. "It's nice to vent, sometimes, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Cecilia agreed. "Yeah, it is…" She took a deep breath, then: "It's just, everyone at school always excepts me to be so beautiful and smart and social able because Cassidy isn't, so I ALWAYS have to live up to that. And Cass hates me more than words; she can't even LOOK at me without getting this look on her face. And Mam…she eats all the goody-goody ness up, so I just keep going for her, even though mostly I just want to sock her, and then Da…well, he'd always been there for me, even though he likes Cassidy more, and now HE'S dying. And life is just…it's hell, basically."

He blinked, trying to gather all this information. "Wow…that sucks."

"It really does," Cecilia replied immediately, dabbing her eyes with the tissue. "Thanks for listening!" She began to hop back up the steps, already looking more chipper.

"So does this mean you'll go out with me?" George asked, turning his body half-way so that he just caught a whiff of her flowery perfume as she zipped away.

The door slammed in his face.

...

The fair was a great place to be, Alley thought happily as she and John walked by the man selling popcorn and cotton candy. Alley had never really been to something like this—when she was young, her real father used to take her places but she hardly remembered anything now. And Royce? The only place he ever took her was a bar and she nearly got attacked by some drunk man. So, yes she was more than happy to be here. Suddenly, she looked right in front of her, stopped and gasped rather loudly. John stared at her quizzically; a bit startled by her reaction. He thought maybe it was a gasp of pain. They both took generous amounts of aspirin and wore sunglasses to block out the sun so generally, they were feeling better. But he smirked when he followed her gaze and saw the rusty but working Ferris wheel.

"Really?" he asked in an amused tone.

"What?"

"A fuckin' Ferris wheel?" He was incredulous and nearly on the brink of laughing. "You're getting all bloody excited over a fuckin' kiddie ride?"

"So?" Alley crossed her arms over her chest like a petulant child and fixed him with a glare. "I've never been on one and I want to go!"

"Then let's go!" John said with a head shake and a chuckle. He grabbed Alley's hand and pulled her forward. He paid the man and they got into an empty cart. Soon, they were high above everyone, looking down.

"Wow!" Alley breathed as she looked below. Everything and everyone looked so tiny and so far away. She sat back, enjoying the quiet stillness of being so high up.

"It's nice up here," John said, taking out a cigarette. He had only one left so he and Alley shared it.

"Oh really?" Alley asked with a smirk. "Mr._'Oh, a fuckin' Ferris wheel! What a fuckin' kiddie ride!"_

John chuckled at her bad imitation and turned to look across the city of Blackpool. His mind began to wander and he began remembering the time when he came here with Julia his- his mother. It felt odd to call her that or at least to think of her that way. She was more like a mate to him than anything else. He somehow didn't feel right calling her 'mother'. It seemed like something was missing. Alley broke him out of his thoughts.

"What'cha thinkin' Johnny?"

John shrugged. "Nothin'. Life, I suppose."

"What about life?" she asked, taking one last drag on the cigarette before throwing it over the side of the cart.

"Everyone's is different," he replied. "Their lives, I mean."

"Yeah, some people got it good," Alley said, not bothering to hide the bitter note in her voice. "And some are shite."

"Besides Royce, your life ain't that horrible."

"What?" Alley half-screeched; incredulous. "You're fuckin' jokin' ain't ya?"

"No."

"Then put your glasses on ya blind wanker!" she said, smacking his arm. "Between an extremely fucked up father, an abusive step-father, a demented psycho step-brother and a mother who barely functions, my life is shit!"

It was tensely silent for a moment. John knew most of this about Alley but he had never seen her last out so angrily and bitterly before. She reminded him a lot of himself then. When he spoke next, his voice was soft.

"My life isn't all fuckin' good either." His voice was hushed and she had to strain to hear him. "I live with my auntie. Guess I'm not fuckin' important to my parents, am I?"

"But Julia- you see her-"

"Fuck!" he said, cutting her off. "I see her. But she's not really there."

"What about your father?" Alley asked, suddenly curious. She knew about Julia Lennon-most did. But the man who was John's father remained a complete mystery.

"Who fuckin' knows?" he grumbled, kicking at the front of their cart.

"Well," Alley said with a sigh. "I guess our lives are equally fucked up then." Shrugging, she flashed him a half-hearted smile. "Well that's all right. We just gotta not screw up our children when we get old. We could be seventy year-old grandparents, you know? Telling our grandkids stories of our glory days."

John laughed, entertained by the thought. But then he turned serious. "That's not gonna be me."

"Why?"

"Because," John explained with a non-chalant shrug. "I don't think I'm gonna live that fuckin' long."

Alley felt her heart leap when he said that. The most she could utter clearly was, "What?"

"I don't think I'll be around at seventy," he said, still not sounding too alarmed by the statement.

"Why are you talking like that?" Alley demanded, her voice rising to show how freaked out she really was. Her voice rose until it was squeaky and high-pitched. John looked a little startled by her reaction.

"What is your fuckin' problem?" he asked like she was the one who said the crazy thing.

"I—I don't know," she mumbled. The truth was that he had scared her; REALLY scared her. Up until that point, she thought she was the only one with the fear or the thought of dying young. Not only was the prospect of John dying young scaring her but also that she felt the same way for so long. "Me too," she whispered. "I mean-I've thought the same."

"Really?" John was looking at her with a strange expression. "I would never have guessed."

"I've always felt it."

John nodded silently and then that grin appeared on his face. "I bet I'm right. I'll die young and you'll be old."

Alley scoffed. "Nuh-uh! You'll get old and crusty and I'll die young and pretty!"

"Let's bet on it then," John said with a twinkle in his eye. He put out his hand for Alley to take. She shook it.

"Deal."

Soon after that, they were let off the Ferris wheel and they continued running around the fair. They visited the fun house and played games and just had fun; no worries, no obligations. And when night began to fall, John suggested that they go see a movie and then return to the motel.

Life was good.

...

"The fair," Paul said all of a sudden as they walked down the dark, dank streets of Blackpool. Why they were there in the first place was beyond him. He'd wanted to stay in Liverpool and keep searching. But Cassidy seemed to think that the best place to search for their friends was THIS shady place.

"The fair?" Cass asked, giving him an odd look. She had managed to say as little as possible to him this entire time, and even when it came to walking she stood a careful distance away. She wasn't taking any chances with Paul.

"Yeah. Me and John went there before." And with that, he started steering an unwilling Cass in the general direction of the smell of cotton candy that was wafting to them from a couple streets away.

"I think you just wanna go to the carnival," Cassidy mused out loud, shooting Paul a withering look.

"No, no. John'll be here, I'm sure of it."

They wove in and out of the various rides and carnies, trying to locate their two friends. Occasionally, they would stop at a random stand and give the worker there description of John or Alley, but the answer would be the same each time.

"Do you realize how many tall, auburn guys walk through here each day?"

Paul sighed through his nostrils. "Yes, well, he was accompanied by a short girl with black hair and green eyes. And Buddy Holly glasses."

"Maybe I saw 'em, maybe I didn't," the man sniffed, wiping his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"Could you PLEASE just help us out here?" Cass implored.

"What's in it for me?"

"Life," Paul growled, taking a step forward and putting his fist up menacingly. Cass could hardly contain her laughter.

"You know what? Never mind. They probably didn't stop by here anyway—its smells like someone took a shit, ate it, then threw it back up." Cassidy gave a tug on Paul's arm, forcing him to walk away.

"Some people," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. But his mood did a three sixty when he caught sight of the huge, gleaming Ferris wheel that shone in the moonlight. He froze, staring up at with his wide, hazel eyes.

Cassidy followed his gaze. "We don't have time."

"Not even for ONE, little, itsy bitsy ride?" He clasped his hands, putting them under his jaw and pouting his lips.

Cassidy ignored him. "We HAVE to find them. It's getting dark and we have nowhere to stay."

Apparently, Paul had some extremely selective hearing. "C'mon, Cass!" he begged, grabbing her hand and trying to pull her to the ride. However, Cass dug her heels into the ground. "Please, please, PLEASE?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. Well…it WAS only one ride. And there wasn't any line. And, seriously, what could it hurt? "I guess…" Before she could even finish the thought, he was tugging her up the stairs and onto the loading platform.

Her heart skipped a beat when she realized how close she'd have to sit next to him.

"Look! It's so beautiful up here!" Paul looked like a dazzled little kid on a sugar high, pointing at the various lights and the stars up above them. "Wait—is that…?" He suddenly leaned forward, pointing down toward the gate where two figures—one short and black haired, the other tall, lean, and broad shouldered. The seat they were sitting on gave a sickening lurch as Paul shifted his weight forward, causing Cassidy to close her eyes tight and grip the bar that was holding them in painfully tight.

"Paul," she hissed, trying to regain her breathing. "Don't DO that."

"But…but…that was John and Alley! They're here!"

Cassidy managed to open her eyes, finding the pair of them just as they disappeared down the dark, shady street. "We'll follow them as soon as we get off this stupid thing."

Paul nodded, his eyes still glued to the place he had last seen their friends. Suddenly, he spoke up. "So, ahem, about Saturday…"

Cass let out a dry, bitter laugh. "That…was…HORRIBLE."

Paul chuckled along with her. "Did you see Julia's FACE? You know, after you and Alley left she sat down and talked to me and John about how we have to be responsible with our actions. And then she asked me if I needed to borrow any money to marry you."

Cassidy burst out laughing, shaking her head in disbelief. "She didn't."

"She did. Me and John had a good laugh about it afterward, no doubt."

Cass smiled, gazing out over the lighted up buildings of Blackpool. "And how much did you take?"

Paul frowned. "What?"

"How much did you take?" Cass repeated slowly. "I've always wanted a nice wedding. Pink roses all over the place, that's what I've always imagined."

"Ah, I'd take out LOANS just to get you pink roses, m'dear," he answered, adopting a posh, formal accent.

"Excellent, excellent. And I've always adored bridesmaids and groomsmen. How many of them, do you think?" She cast a glowing smile towards Paul.

"HUNDREDS!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "The most in HISTORY. Only to please you, my love."

"And carriages?"

"Yes! The CARRIAGES! A parade of them!"

Cassidy giggled, sighing and leaning her head into Paul's chest. She ignored the way her heart rate quickened at this, wanting to play along. "Oh, our wedding shall be the best in the land. All our unplanned children may attend, of course. And Julia Lennon, the woman of the hour!"

Paul wrapped his arm around her, nodding fervently. "Ah, of course! We owe it ALL to her."

"Oh, Paulie, isn't life grand?"

"Oh, my dearest Cassidy, it is, it is." He inclined his head, touching his lips lightly to her forehead. Did he have any idea how it sent shivers down Cass's spine? Yet she still didn't pull away.

Just then, the Ferris wheel hummed to a stop, and they knew it was time to get off. The old man that appeared to be the attendant moved forward. Though he walked with a sort of limp, he had a huge grin plastered on his face. The sight of him made Cassidy's heart melt.

"Enjoy your ride, kiddies?" he asked, unbuckling them with slightly trembling hands.

Cass gave him the sweetest smile she could. "It was lovely, thank you so much."

"Ah, young love. I'm so very jealous," he chuckled, giving Cassidy his hand as she stepped out of the seat. She glanced back, exchanging a look with Paul. Why didn't she correct him, he wondered, studying the back of Cass's curly, brown head.

"Sir, have you seen a tall, auburn man with a short, black haired girl? It would help us out a lot if you had." Paul nervously wrung his hands, wanting to be as polite as possible.

"Why, yes, actually, I did." Paul and Cassidy's faces lit up at the exact same time. "Actually," he continued thoughtfully, helping another couple into their seats, "they said something about getting a hotel for the night. Cute pair, they were."

Cassidy couldn't help the huge grin that spread across her face. "Thank you SO much. You have no idea how much time you've saved us, sir."

The man smiled shakily, waving a hand in the air. "Oh, it's quite alright."

Cassidy began to walk away, assuming that Paul was following her. When she realized he wasn't, she turned around just in time to see Paul shrug out of his jacket, wrapping it around the old man's shoulders. The man looked up in protest, but Paul smiled and held up his hands. He said something, shook the attendant's hand, and caught up with her.

Cass gave him a weird look.

"What?" he asked.

"That was probably the sweetest thing I have ever seen." She smiled hesitantly. "Like, seriously."

Paul flushed a little bit, looking down. "Nah, he just looked cold. I figured it was the least I could do."

Cassidy stared up at him, at a loss for words. What he just did was BEYOND adorable. So adorable that she was beginning to regret some of the things she had done to Paul recently, including ignoring him, playing with his emotions, leading him on, having sex with him, and ditching him. She was REALLY being a bitch, and he didn't deserve that. She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.

"Just—" he held up a hand. "Forget about it. Let's go find John and Alley."

...

It was nearly eleven-thirty when they finally stumbled back to the motel. Instead of seeing one movie, they saw two- a great rock and roll double feature. But then of course they were hungry so they stopped off at a small restaurant to eat. By the time they left there and walked back to the motel, it was pretty late. Both were dead tired but it was a much needed fun day.

I don't want to go home, Alley thought to herself as she put on her pyjamas (really an old t-shirt and a pair of John's boxers) and then left the bathroom to go to sleep. John was already in the bed, half-covered by the thin blanket. He was wearing a pair of black pants and nothing else. Alley—ignoring the way her heart raced—shook her head at him.

"Must you take your shirt off?" she inquired, lowering herself into the bed. Once she got situated comfortably. She turned to look at him. "Don't you wear pyjamas like normal people?"

John smirked and looked over her outfit. "Don't you?"

Alley made a face at him as she looked down at herself. Okay so maybe she wasn't the poster child for proper pyjama wear but at least she wore something. And besides, was it her fault that she forgot to bring pyjama bottoms? Well maybe it was but she had to leave in such a rush to avoid Royce that she didn't get to grab all she needed. After turning down John's suggestion to sleep without pants, he gave her a pair of his boxers to wear. So now he was just being cheeky.

"Whatever," she said, waving him off. She stared up at the cracked, white ceiling now. "What do you suppose Cass and Paul are doing?"

Jon snorted. "Out fuckin' lookin' for us, I reckon."

"Which basically forces them to be together," Alley said through her laughter. "That's too goof! They'll have our bloody heads when they find us!"

"Those fuckin' wankers!" He shook his head and cackled- yes, cackled- like an evil witch casting a spell.

"John?" Alley suddenly said, propping herself up on one elbow and looking at him. He did the same; his position mirroring hers.

"Hmm?"

"It's been fun here," Alley said, the thought of going back home the next night making her glum. "I don't want to go back."

"No one would," John replied with a half-shrug. "I reckon we can't stay forever, though."

Alley cocked her head to the side. "Why not?"

"Cause I need to go back to me band," he replied with a grin. "How else will I become famous?"

"Oh shut-up, John!"

John shook his head and chuckled and she stuck her tongue out at him. And then it just happened again. Alley was sure that it was the magical powers of the strange motel bed. They were kissing—very passionately this time. Things became heated and quickly their kissing began to escalate. Alley was lost in the moment but when she felt John's hand begin to push her shirt up, she broke from the kiss and put her hand on his; stopping it. They were both breathless. John looked somewhat disappointed.

"What?"

Alley shook her head. "I can't John. Not now-not yet anyway."

"Why?" The disappointed look didn't leave his face and Alley felt bad for making him feel that way. But she simply wasn't ready yet. She told him this and he sighed. "That's okay," he said. A smile formed suddenly on his face. "When will you be?"

Alley couldn't help but laugh. "I promise that when I am, I'll let you know," she said with an exaggerated wink. She tried to make it sound aloof but she knew it didn't sound that way.

John smirked. "Is it a deal?"

"Oh—absolutely!"

"Okay, okay," John said with a laugh. "But we have to make it official and a handshake doesn't work."

"Hmm," Alley said, thinking for a few moments. "Why don't we seal it with a kiss?"

They started towards each other to seal their deal when the door suddenly burst open. Alley and John sprang apart, both nearly falling off the bed. When Alley's eyes landed on the people standing there, she gasped. She knew how bad this looked. She and John were basically half-naked, their hair messed up and their faces flushed red. She knew exactly what it looked like. And judging by the angry glares she and John were receiving, the wrong conclusions were made. Hell, if the situation were reversed, she'd be screaming her bloody brains out. And the fact that they looked guilty didn't help either.

"Hi guys," she said, her voice cracking nervously. "What brings you here?"

Alley and John looked at each other again before looking back to a very angry Cass and Paul. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Alley wanted to laugh. After all, Paul and Cass were by far the poster children for celibacy. And considering the fact that they actually didn't do anything, Alley didn't think this was much of a problem. But the way both of them were practically steaming didn't give her a good feeling. John leaned back into the pillow, a half-amused expression on his face as if it was normal to be caught in bed with a girl and be yelled at. It was as if he expected it. Alley turned to look at them once more and offered a small smile.

"So- how'd you guys find us?"

Ignoring John, Cass pointed to Alley. "You're a hypocrite," she hissed, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She could think of SO many other things to say, but quite frankly she was just downright appalled that Alley would lecture HER about sex, and yet here she was.

Paul was quiet, not nearly as surprised as Cass was. He stood behind her, next to the door, fully prepared to let HER do the talking. John, he knew, was a man of many women. He doubted that would change just for Alley, and it turns out he was right-not only was John sleeping with the girl in front of him, but just about any other girl that threw themselves in his lap, too.

"No-no- I am not!" Alley said, stuttering only a few times. She sat up straighter, pointing at Cass. "We did not do anything. Like- I fucking swear."

"Really? Because it doesn't look so good for you right now." Cassidy was aware of how two-faced she was sounding, but she couldn't help it. Alley had yelled at HER for one stupid, meaningless night, whereas she had been fooling around with John for God knows how long-why hadn't she told her?

Alley laughed nervously, looking down at herself and John. He was being no help so far, just smirking at everyone. She wanted to smack him. Hard. "Listen to me," Alley said, looking at her best friend straight into the eyes. "I'm not lying. We didn't do anything. We're-dressed...sort of."

"Sort of," Cassidy repeated with a cruel twist of her mouth. Behind her, Paul snorted with agreement.

"Well what the fuck do you want us to sleep in?" Alley demanded, anger creeping its way into her voice. "A fucking snow suit?"

"I just don't understand," Cass began, her voice rising in frustration, "why you feel like you can't tell me anything anymore. When was the last time you and I had a SERIOUS conversation? Other than, of course, issues that matter SO much like whether or not Paul is in love with me or whether FUCKING JOHN LENNON WILL ASK YOU OUT?" She really didn't mean to yell, but it just came out that way.

Her distaste in John showed a little bit more than she would have liked. Paul sank back in the door, a little shocked over the fact that Alley and Cassidy discussed HIS feelings. Also, he had never seen Cass quite so mad.

John's interest became piqued at this point and Alley could feel his eyes boring into the back of her skull. She turned to him before he could open his mouth and softly said, "Just shut-up." With a deep sigh and another wave of anger passing through her, she turned to look at Cassidy. "What the fuck are you talking about? You-fucking-bitch! When were you going to tell me that you and Paul slept together? Huh? Tell me that, Cass! I had to find out from George- a guy I don't even fucking know! The last "serious conversation" we ever had was what fucking dress you wanted me to wear to prom!" Her breathing was ragged and she was shooting daggers from her eyes at Cass. John remained where he was, not saying anything.

Cassidy's jaw began to quiver, and before she could stop herself, she was saying things that she had never meant to tell anyone. "I'll tell you when I was fucking going to tell you-around the same time that you ASKED the reason why I was LIVING AT PAUL'S HOUSE!"

Paul's eyes widened innocently at the sound of his name. He hadn't realized Alley didn't know the reason Cass couldn't bear to stay with her family; he thought it was a given that she'd tell her.

Alley felt the sting of that one and for a moment she was speechless. A wave of guilt and regret immediately came over her- she had never, not once, asked why Cass was living with Paul. She was too busy with her own life and being with John that she hadn't even bothered to ask. But she was angry now and her rage quickly took control of her mouth.

"Why didn't you fuckin' tell me why? Huh, Cass? Am I supposed to be your fucking mind reader now too?," she practically screamed. "Do I have to deal with my own problems as well as yours? Not that you have any fuckin' problems, Cass, aside for your family being too Goddamn perfect! Oh, oh Lord, how hard must your life be? Cry me a fuckin' river, will ya? Why don't you come live at MY house and then see who has the real problems?"

"Oh, PLEASE. I ask you ten times a day if you're okay, and you look like you're gonna bite my head off." Cassidy couldn't help it; she had begun to cry. She was never strong, never brave, but she wished just this once she could suck it up like, well...Alley. "And look at that," she kept going, shooting a sarcastically amused look around the room. "Once again, the conversation goes back to YOU. Always you, you, you, YOU! Don't you know how fucking TIRING it is being Alley's friend-never Cassidy-at school, and then going home and being Cecilia's sister-NOT fucking Cassidy-or a dying man's daughter-?" At this point, her voice choked off, and her tear flow was so heavy she had no choice but to aim her gaze to the ground.

"What?" Alley said, the last part of Cass said catching her attention and making her heart stop. "What- what the fuck are you talking about?"

Cassidy took a deep breath, gathering her wits and staring straight back at Alley. "Cancer. I'm talking about cancer, and my dad, and my fucking pshyco ass mother acting like nothing's happening."

"I-I'm-sorry," Alley said, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a nervous jumble. She didn't know this at all and it made her feel like someone had just punched a hole into her. Cass' father had sometimes made up some of the ways Royce failed in her life. And now he was-dying? She could only imagine what Cass was going through. But anger still radiated through her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Cassidy gave her a bitter smile, shifting her weight from her left foot to her right. "Like I said, we haven't had many serious chats lately." Something inside her seemed to collapse at her words. Alley, someone whom she viewed as both her informant and her listener just yesterday, was suddenly this person that she didn't even know. She was no longer her best friend, just a girl that seemed to know a few details about her previous life. "That's not important, anyways," she practically whispered, her voice completely drained of any strength. "Why don't you just continue your little honeymoon with a boy who has about five of you, and we'll be going, eh? It was a mistake to come here, I see that now."

Alley felt a laugh escape her and she shook her head. "Really, Cass? That's low, even for you. And don't you talk about him!" She nodded her head towards John who was still silent and no longer looked amused. "He didn't take my virginity away from me and he hasn't made me do anything. And you know what? I don't give a fuck about who he has and who he fucks because we are not together!" She took a breath, looking past Cass at Paul for a few seconds. Their eyes locked and he seemed to know what was going to happen next. Silently he pleaded with her but she was way past reason now. "And you want to talk about man whores, Cass? How about the bastard standing behind you? He's not as innocent as you think he is. We fuckin' kissed before you ever had the courage to even think about doing so!" As soon as the words left her lips, she regretted them. It wasn't what she wanted to say to Cass-ever. But it was done.

Cassidy, being an avid reader of romance novels, was very aware of what betrayal sounded like and looked like, but she had never before FELT it. And fuck, it was the worst feeling in the world. The tears that had dried on her face suddenly ignited as she turned the brightest red she had ever managed. She could feel Paul's eyes behind her, and she could even picture his wide open mouth behind her back. But she had eyes only for Alley.

"I can't..." she breathed, "I can't believe you would..." She blinked, looking down, trying to form some harsh insult or bleak swear or even muster up enough energy to yell at Alley. But she couldn't. Paul, on his part, felt it was better not to say anything at all. That way maybe she would forget that he was there.

Alley's eyes were wide and she shook her head, speechless. She couldn't believe that she had just told Cass the one thing she planned on keeping from her forever. And she felt absolutely horrible. Paul was frozen behind Cass, obviously feeling the same as Alley did at that moment. She didn't want to look at John, fearing that he would be beyond pissed off but when she turned to him, he looked the same as he had this whole time. He wasn't mad or upset. Of course, Alley couldn't see the hurt that he felt in his own heart.

"Cass..." she began, struggling desperately to find the right words. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to- it- it didn't mean anything, I swear."

Cassidy looked away from her, her breathing too fast and coming out in short little daggers. For the first time, her gaze traveled over to the half-naked John, who was reclining with a rather blank look on her face. She locked eyes with him, and though he wasn't showing it, she knew that they were exactly in the same boat. Wordlessly, she turned around, intending to walk right out of that room and never look back. But Paul caught her arm.

"Cassidy, stop, it was only a kiss." She looked open at him slowly, her brow furrowed, a certain numbness settling on her entire body.

"As opposed to what? Something that meant more?" She tugged her arm away, shaking her head. "Don't touch me."

And then she left.

The other three sat there in complete silence, all lost in their own thoughts and feelings. For the first time in a long time, Alley actually felt like she wanted to cry. But she held it in. As far as she was concerned, her world had just shattered around her and now she was staring at the jagged pieces all around her, wondering how she could even begin to pick them up and put them back together again. There was only one thing that ran through her mind just then.

Would they ever be the same again?

...

Cassidy sighed, staring right in front of her with a mournful expression on her face.

"Paul…listen to me. From the moment you first kissed me behind that bush, I knew you were going to be trouble. Trouble in the sense that I would probably fall hard for you, especially at the worst time in my life. Even though back then I didn't know what my life would be like now—hell, I hardly knew ANYTHING—I did know that you probably would always be a huge part of it. And you are. I think about you all the time.

"That's not to say that what we did was right. It wasn't. I think about it every day…and it doesn't help that half of me doesn't even care that I broke just about all my morals. I'm only fifteen, as are you. For some, fifteen is old enough. I believe you are one of those people. But for me…I'm not the same. Sex was painful, not fun. I wasn't naïve enough to believe the opposite, but I also thought being there with the person that I was MEANT to be with would make it better.

"I'm not saying that I don't think we're meant for each other. Then again…the odds are awfully low. I believe that in our lives, we are each meant to break the odds at least once. But somehow, I don't think this is our time. Last year, at this time, I'd never even been KISSED. Life is just moving too fast for me, and I'm sorry that you have to suffer because of that, Paul."

"Maybe when we're older…but hell, we both know how cliché THAT line is. Age doesn't bring necessarily bring wisdom; just wrinkles." At this point, she looked down at her toes, a little bit scared to say this next part.

"I dunno if you're in love with me…fuck, I don't even know if I love YOU. Anyway you have it, I think we need to take a break on whatever kind of twisted, mixed up relationship we have. You know, see other people. God knows you'll feel the need to sleep around a little bit." She let out a painful chuckle, the hurt evident in her eyes from just this thought.

"You hurt me, Paul. You hurt me bad. I don't think I've ever felt so…so battered and abused without even being touched. And while I know that you probably meant nothing by it—a mistake, maybe?—I can't ignore the fact that you kissed my best friend. You KISSED her, Paul. That may mean nothing to you, but it sure as hell means a lot to me. A kiss is always the beginning…and a beginning must have an ending. Any way you have it, I don't want to look at you—I can't—and I think it would be better if for the time being, you just stayed the hell away from me.

"Maybe one day…maybe we'll come back to each other in the end. Maybe our…whatever we feel…will just be stronger. Maybe our wrinkles will make us wiser."

Cassidy looked up finally, gazing back at herself in the floor length mirror that hung on her closet door. Her blue eyes were rimmed with red, a single tear running down her ample cheek. Her lips, usually bright red, were a dull pink, and her skin was paler than it had ever been, making her freckles stand out. She looked sad, worn out, and after that past couple of days that she had, it only seemed fitting.

She thought about the words that she had just spoken, words that had been floating around in her head for a quite a while now. More than anything, she wondered if she'd ever have the bravery to actually say them to Paul.

...

**Catie AN:** So...wow...umm...wow.

**Addie AN:** Ouch. That's all I can say.

**Catie AN:** Just so you know guys, that was totally unintentional. But nevertheless...wow...

**Addie AN:** Yeah. I mean, we didn't plan to have a fight at all and it just happened. I feel drained from that, almost like I actually lived it.

**Catie AN:** There were definitely some bitchy words exchanged. And not to change the subject-but George? Cuuuuuuutie.

**Addie AN:** Yes! Possibly the only bright spot chapter. Well, except the shirtless John. That's just- awesome yummy.

**Catie AN:** No. Ew. Dick. In. Pants. PLEASE.

**Addie AN**: Yes. Yes. And honestly? What's the point of having it in there?

**Catie AN:** Oh, God. Please keep your transsexual musings to yourself, please. AND I HAD AN ANOUNCEMENT!

**Addie AN: **Ahh shut-up. Anyway, yes that's right, what's this announcement?

**Catie AN:** Well, actually, there are three things. FIRST and most important: I have a panda hat. If you would like to see said panda hat go to my profile.

**Addie AN:** Oh how wonderful. Next?

**Catie AN:** SECOND: I am now a diehard fan of Death Cab for Cutie.

**Addie AN**: Dokey okey. Thirdly?

**Catie AN:** Noooooot telling. But he is not old, fictional, or dead. So that's something, isn't it?

**Addie AN:** Yup it's something. And I think I can understand how you're feeling. Let's just say crushes suck.

**Catie AN:** I think I've clarified this before: people in general suck.

**Addie AN:** Yes, that's true. You know what I've come to realize?

**Catie AN:** Mmm?

**Addie AN:** This is getting long. And people should REVIEW!

**Catie AN:** Wow. Oh, so deep. Okay, guys, REVIEW, or Addie will find YOU!

**Addie AN:** I will, you know.


	11. Chapter 11

**Catie AN: Well…hi.**

**Addie AN: Yes, hi. It's been... a shit load of time it has.**

**Catie AN: Yeah...it really has. Not gonna lie, we've worked our asses off to get this chapter to you. I even went so far as to make a LIST of scenes we'd need for the chapter in order for us to make it go faster...my plan failed.**

**Addie AN: Yup. We nearly killed ourselves to get this chapter out. But-here it is. In all its glory.**

**Catie AN: What's goin on in this guy? We've got...some George. LOT'S of George, actually. More than usual. Three scenes, I think. We've got sad Cassidy and whorey Paul. That's bout it from my side. Addie?**

**Addie AN: Well...we've got a very broody and remorseful Alley along with the normal evil Royce. Then some really really REALLY hurt Alley. Some sexy John... I mean brooding. Then some good ol' John and Alley. Yeah well... the thing we are trying to say is READ!**

DIIIIINNNNNGGGGG-DOONNNNNGGGG!

The door swung open almost immediately.

"George!" Cecilia exclaimed, leaping forward and wrapping her arms around George's bony shoulders. He staggered back in surprise, the wind a little knocked out of him.

Nonetheless, he was incredibly happy at her enthusiasm.

"That's right, it's me." He sat down, as usual, on the first stair on the Farrell's stoop, his hands coming to rest firmly on his knees. He KNEW what was coming, and he had prepared himself for it all week. His visits were becoming a frequent thing nowadays, and Cecilia had come to expect him, which he liked. He could handle being her informant, especially because they were bonding over it.

Cecilia took a deep breath, then started in. "Kay, so lately Cassidy has been acting SO weird. Like, weirder than normal." She looked down at her freckled arms, then back up to George's chocolate brown eyes. "Do you think she's, like, doing drugs or something?"

George chuckled, but his mood was slightly dampened by her words. Cassidy…shit, he seemed to be discussing that girl a LOT lately. Paul wanted to talk about her twenty four hours a day, always scheming and never putting anything into action. It was damn tiring!

"She's not on drugs," he answered flatly, his posture noticeably slumping a little bit.

"Then what IS it?" Cecilia implored, looking at him desperately. "If you know, I swear to God I won't tell a soul." She clasped her hand in front of his face, pouting out her lips.

George laughed once again, shoving her hands away from him good-naturedly. "Alright, alright, if you MUST know…" He leaned in a little bit. "Cassidy and Paul McCartney kind of had a thing, and now she's not seeing him anymore and she's not talking to Alley."

Cecilia crinkled her nose. "Goodbye and good riddance to Alley. She was half of Cass's problems, anyways. But Paul? He's…he's not too bad." The look on her face made it clear to him that he was a little more to her than 'too bad'. It looked more like she was going to make him her next target of affections.

George felt a flare of jealousy heat up within him. No. He would not lose ANOTHER to Paul's enticing clutches. It just wasn't FAIR. Suddenly, George knew what he must do.

"Please. He's not all that great. He and Cassidy only did It ONCE, and he stretched it out to make it seem like it was this great accomplishment."

Meanwhile, Cecilia's jaw had dropped and she was gazing at George in amazement. "Oh…oh my GOD. They did NOT!"

George swallowed. He shouldn't. He really shouldn't have told her that. If Cass had wanted her to know, then she would already know. But still...he couldn't lose Cecilia to Paul. If she started to become infatuated with his best friend, he would truly loose it. That was a good year of his life, completely wasted.

"Cecilia—don't tell anyone! Not even Cassidy. She would be terribly mad at me if she knew I told you!" George completely turned his torso to the bright figure or Cecilia, who bounded up from beside him and went to go into the house.

"Oh, won't. Don't worry." She smiled sweetly from the door, easing it shut ever so slowly.

"WAIT! I was wondering if you'd like to go to the pictures with me on Saturday night?" There. He had said it. He doubted whether he had EVER gotten the chance to complete his advances toward Cecilia.

She swallowed, the door just about shut. "Sorry, plans. Nice seeing you George!"

Thirty-third attempt, no luck. George sat back down on the stoop, completely forgetting about Cassidy and feeling thoroughly defeated.

…

_I wonder if this is what depression feels like._

Alley was lying on her bed, staring up at the cracked white ceiling. It was days after that horrible showdown in Blackpool and she didn't feel like doing anything. After that day and what went down—she didn't feel like doing anything or seeing anyone or even talking. Nothing in her life was good right then. She and her best friend (her only truly good friend, really) were fighting and not speaking—something that they had never done; at least not on a scale big as this. And then there was the whole kissing Paul thing- she never, EVER wanted that to get out for the sole reason of not wanting to hurt Cassidy. But lo and behold, she was the one who spilled the secret and she did it purposely to hurt her friend. And why? All because she had been caught in a compromising position and _she _was the one who'd gotten angry.

This was all her fault.

But still, that wasn't the worst part of the whole ordeal. And besides Royce almost killing her (again) for running away with John, the worst part was how horrible she felt inside. Cass' father was dying and had been dying for a while and she knew nothing of it. For as long as she could remember, she saw Cass' father as a second father to her. Having a shitty life like she did, what with a real father who left and a step-father who was nothing but an abusive, berating drunk, Cassidy's house used to be a sort of safe haven. She remembered clearly the feeling of safety and family she felt every time she stepped into the Farrell household. Cassidy's family was so perfect, so nuclear that Alley was always jealous and wished she could have half of what her best friend had. And with that jealousy, came a little resentment over the fact that she had such a crappy life and her friend was living happily.

But that wasn't true was it? How could Cassidy be living such a perfect life with a dying father, a mother who was so concerned with appearances that she was faker than a plastic Barbie and a sister who was a raving bitch? That was the part she was beating herself up over the most- the fact that Cassidy's life was becoming less and less perfect and she wasn't there for her. If only she took herself out of her own world for a little while, she would see that her friend was hurting and maybe she could have helped her. And maybe, just maybe, they could have avoided the blowout they had had in Blackpool. But Alley took the selfish route and only thought of herself and her problems and completely (whether subconsciously or not) ignored the one person in the world she cared about the most.

And she felt horrible. The guilt and the sadness and the pain was tearing out her insides; not giving her a moment's rest. She flipped herself onto her side then quickly decided against it when the pain shot through her body. Royce wasn't very forgiving or merciful when she returned home from Blackpool. It wasn't like he was worried sick like a normal parent would be—Royce was angry that he had to fend for himself for a few days and that someone would defy him so bad. Needless to say, Alley's homecoming wasn't a warm one.

Then there was John. That was another story in itself. On the way back from Blackpool, he assured her that he wasn't mad at her for kissing Paul. And he didn't seem to be upset with Paul either. But John was the type of person who hid his emotions and he hid them well. Alley knew that deep down she had hurt him and even though they weren't going out and she was sure he had been with other girls, she felt like she had let him down. It was just another thing to add to her pity party.

Sighing and flipping over to a position that didn't cause her pain, Alley closed her eyes and forced the thoughts out of her mind. She wanted-_needed_- to escape for a little while and sleep was the only way she could do it. After a while, she fell into a dreamless sleep and at least was able to rest her mind for a short time.

…

"What hurts the most about it?"

Cassidy stared straight forward, choosing not to look at little Georgie Harrison. "That me and Alley were supposed to be best friends…no matter what. And I honestly thought that meant something to her."

"But you chose to boot her out of your life."

Cassidy was barefoot—her favorite way to be—and sitting on her front stoop. George was there because Cecilia had just rejected him again, and Cass figured they could both use a little company.

"And she chose to kiss the boy that—" She stopped dead, wondering what exactly Paul was to her. Not her boyfriend, exactly. But she really, REALLY liked him. And Alley knew that damn well.

George didn't fill in her sentence for her, merely gazing at his big feet. "I grew two inches, ya know. I thought the height would give me a bit of an advantage."

Cassidy smiled absently. He really was just too cute. She just wanted to give him a big hug and call it a day. "I dunno what's wrong with my sister. She'll come to her senses one day. I guarantee you."

"That's a pretty big risk."

"What can I say? Danger is my middle name."

He chuckled, shaking his head slowly. Then he looked up slowly, his eyes locked on Cass's cheek. "Cassidy?"

"Mmm?"

"Am I…" He looked as though he was struggling for the word. Or maybe he was just embarrassed as per usual. "…handsome?" He blushed crimson, his head immediately ducking.

Cassidy didn't even have to think about her answer. "You are without a doubt, one of the most handsome boys I know." She grinned from ear to ear, loving how adorable and young he looked.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. How about me? Am I…pretty?" She grinned, not seriously asking him. He looked up, the blush fading a bit from his cheeks, and studied her face intently.

"Yes. You're beautiful."

Cassidy slung her arm around George's shoulders. "Ahhh, George. Quite the charmer, aren't we?"

"I've learned from the best."

Her face fell. 'The best' obviously meaning Paul. Paul the ever-charming. She wondered how many girls had fallen under his spell since she last spoke to him. She missed him. Everything from the way he smelled to the way he sang to her sometimes on his guitar. Always silly, mindless love songs. But they could always make her happy.

"I miss him," she admitted softly. Her arm retracted from around George's shoulders as she drew into herself. She didn't know why she just said that out loud. Wasn't she supposed to be tough? Be all…resilient and stuff?

"Aye, and he misses you."

Cassidy frowned, her dark blue eyes studying her long, pale fingers. He missed her? Then why didn't he make any sort of effort at ALL to get her to come back to him? But then again, was she ever with him in the first place?

This whole situation was fucked up.

"So…he hasn't…er…" She didn't quite know how to ask this question without sounding too desperate. And that was exactly the problem. She WAS desperate. So why try and hide it? "He hasn't been with any other girls?"

George hesitated. That was all Cassidy needed to know what was REALLY going on. She shook her head, standing up quickly, the bubble of hope that was swelling in her chest bursting open and dropping its contents into the pit of her stomach.

"G'night, George," she said stiffly, already reaching for the door handle.

"Wait—Cass. You don't know the whole story!"

Cassidy paused, her hand still on the door, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "Yeah? And what's that?"

George licked his thin lips nervously. "He really does miss you. And I think the problem is that he's not used to having just…a steady girl. And he doesn't know what to do about what he feels for you."

While he was speaking, Cass had already pulled the door open. She stood framed in the doorway, a sneer firmly on her face. "What he feels for me?" She almost laughed. If he had ANY feelings for her, he wouldn't have kissed her best friend. That was like...rule number one.

"Yeah. See, he's never said it, but I'm pretty sure he's in—" BAM! Before he could finish, Cassidy slammed the door shut, not really wanting to hear this.

"—love with you," George finished, staring at the door, wondering why people never gave him a chance.

…

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Alley shot up straight in her bed, gasping at the way her heart was pounding so hard and0 so fast. A quick l0ook at the darkness outside the window told her it was late and once she found her glasses on the floor and slipped them on, she glanced at the clock.

**6:38 PM.**

With a groan, she jumped off the bed and threw open the door, racing down the stairs as fast as she could go. Royce was a very strict man and if dinner wasn't served at six-thirty sharp, there was hell to pay. And unluckily as she was, Alley was the one who would be at the receiving end of Royce's rage. The house was pitch black when she reached the main floor and ventured quietly into the kitchen. For a fleeting moment she thought Royce might not be home and that she was safe. But when she felt the hand at the back of her neck pull her backwards, she knew she'd never get to be so lucky. She was thrown into the couch roughly and the lamp beside her was switched on. Royce, an angry expression on his face, was standing over her; obviously drunk out of his mind.

"What do you want, Royce?" Alley asked, keeping her tone even and emotionless. She was still in pain from their last encounter and she wasn't looking forward to another one.

Royce didn't reply for a while. He started pacing in front of her, mumbling something to himself and gesturing wildly with his hands. Alley pushed herself back into the couch until she was as far back as she could go. Royce was beginning to scare her. Not only was he drunk but also angry at not being served dinner on time. She looked past him to the front door and quickly weighed her options. If she bolted and ran as fast as she could, she could make it out the door. But if Royce grabbed her before she made it out, he would go crazy on her. And even if by some miracle, she did make it out, she would still have to come back home and pay for it later. So she remained where she was, ready in case she needed to defend herself. Finally Royce stopped pacing and suddenly sat down on the table in front of her. His eyes were glazed and Alley was growing more frightened by the second.

"You are worthless," he said, his voice soft but betraying a multitude of hate.

Alley shook her head. She was used to comments like this. "Royce-don't…."

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" Royce screamed. She could smell the whiskey on his breath and had to force herself not to gag. He paused for a few seconds and then continued, giving her a death glare as he did. "You are a worthless piece of junk."

"Royce-pl-"

"NO!" he said forcefully, banging his hand on the table and causing her to jump. She closed her eyes as he continued. "You are a worthless little tramp. You think that Lennon boy cares about you? Do you think he hangs around with you because he likes your personality? Once he gets you into bed, he'll toss you away like the dirty rag you are! And you'll give it to him, won't you? Hmm? You'll give yourself to him like the little whore I know you are!"

Alley had her eyes squeezed shut and was trying to force the angry tears back. She didn't move, didn't speak; didn't even fight back. She just sat there, taking insult after insult. It seemed like what Royce was saying was only justifying what she had been saying to herself over the past few days. She believed she deserved what Royce was saying to her. After what she let happen, she had to be some sort of evil person. Didn't she?

Royce stood up to his full height now, looking down on her like a king condemning a lowly subject. Alley sucked in her breath, waiting for the next wave of insults.

"And what about your little friend Cassidy?" he said, clearly enjoying the way he was taunting her. "I haven't seen her around in a long time. Did she finally drop you? Did she finally realize what a dirty little rat you are? It's just as well—you were always meant to end up alone. No one wants to stay with you. You stupid little bitch. You should just kill yourself and make it easier on the world." He laughed evilly now and then leaned down until his face was inches away from hers. He grabbed her face and forced her to look into his eyes. "Now go fix me dinner."

…

Cassidy lay on her bed, the dull quiet of darkness surrounding her. The only sound that filled the room was of her steady, rhythmic breathing. Her eyelids fluttered, unwelcome thoughts running through her mind.

Why do you even bother?, some small part of her mind asked. What's even the point? No one even likes you, you cheap dirty whore.

Tears prickled at the inside of Cass's eyes, and her face crumpled.

Even your little sister thinks you're a worthless slut, and you know that's true, that little voice continued.

Cecilia had told Cassidy that she knew. That she knew all about what happened with Paul, and even what happened with Alley. In all fairness, Cass was going to tell her in the hopes that she would hear it from her first. But she had hesitated, never having been very close with her sister. Now it was too late.

Wait til she tells Mam, the voice sneered. That'll be a fun day. You're so fucking stupid, you know that? You'll never measure up to Cecilia.

Cassidy rolled over aggressively, knocking most of her covers off of her. She chomped down hard on her lips, trying to keep them from shaking. A heavy lump rose in her throat.

Would Cecilia ever let herself be fucked up at fifteen? Would she ever just give in, not have a say at all? Would she go so long without telling Mam? Would she let her best friend slip away from her? Would she ever only have just ONE friend?

A tear rolled down the bridge of Cass's nose, seeping into her pillow. It was soon followed by another, and then another. Soon enough it was rapid fire.

Cecilia would have declared that guy as her boyfriend, and he would have NEVER kissed her friend. And if he did, he would have told her himself. He wouldn't have been a coward and not even try and fix things at all. That's all Paul is, you know. A fucking coward. Where is he tonight, hm? No doubt mindlessly putting another girl in your situation…Cecilia would have gotten a better guy.

At this thought, Cassidy sat bolt upright in bed, her face completely scrunched up and her eyes leaking salt water. She swiped furiously at them, agitated that she had let herself cry for something she had already wasted too many tears over.

To take her mind off of her mistakes, she got carefully out of bed. She eased her door open, biting her lip and looking either way down the hall to make sure no one heard her. Then she proceeded down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Cassidy walked over to the sink, filling a cup with water. She was still sniffling a little bit, and occasionally her eyes dripped. It was then that she heard a faint muttering of voices.

Frowning, she tip-toed into the living room, finding the source of the sound coming from the television set. It cast bright, white shadows throughout the darkened room, casting light on a slow-breathing figure on the couch.

Da.

Cassidy took a sip of water, then sat the glass down on the coffee table. She then pulled a soft-knit afghan from the back of the couch, spreading it over her father with delicate ease.

Kneeling beside him, Cass found that his face was troubled. His eyes were shut tightly, but his mouth was moving quickly. Shaking hands reached for the new warmth of the blanket, and he clutched at it in what seemed like terror.

"No…please…"

She pushed her lips together tightly, finding that they were shaking again. This time for a whole different reason.

"Please…my family…"

He shrieked quietly, his mouth continuing to hang open in what seemed like terror. "Too soon…" he muttered.

Cassidy stared at her father, wanting so badly to run away and not have to witness this. But she couldn't, she had to stay there. She was paralyzed with curiosity. For a long time, he lay there. His mouth moved in horrible shapes, his face pained. But he didn't utter another word.

It made her incredibly sad to see her father like this. In her life, he was the only one in her family who was always there for her. He was the only one that didn't think Cecilia was God's great gift. He was even kind to Alley, almost considering her as a second daughter. Cassidy remembered a time—a time long, long ago—when the three of them had sat at the Farrell family dinner table, writing letters to Santa Clause. Cassidy and Alley had asked for things like a little pink bike (Cass) and a record player (Alley), while Cass's father had requested things like a new lawn mower and a promotion at work.

God, how they had laughed.

Suddenly, Da's face cleared, as though his nightmare was over. He readjusted his head on his pillow, smiling peacefully. The usual smile lines on his forehead and near his mouth disappeared in the darkness, making his face look angelic and young. Even his sickly pale skin looked darker and healthier in the glow of the television. And then, almost too quiet for her to hear:

"Love you, Cass."

Cass's throat tightened, a cry threatened to spill from her lips. Even though she felt completely ridiculous, a new stream of tears escaped from her ducts. A date loomed in her mind, a date that she hadn't let herself think about since the date she learned it.

Two weeks. Two weeks and he would never say that to her again.

That sob she had held in for so longer finally came out, and it was somewhat louder than she expected. Immediately, she clapped a hand over her mouth.

Da's eyelids fluttered open, and he was peering at her through sleepy, narrowed eyes. He seemed shaken, and he lifted himself up off the couch with a concerned sigh.

"Oh…shhh…" He wrapped his arms around Cassidy, pulling her close and taking in some of her apparently random sobs. "It's okay, Cass; Daddy's here."

They sat there for a while, gently rocking. Cassidy couldn't seem to get control of herself, and she was letting out so much of the stuff she should've let go of a long time ago. Her father simply held her, every once in a while whispering something comforting in her ear.

But she couldn't stop. She didn't want to let go of him, and she felt like as soon as she did that would be it. That would be the last time.

"Daddy's here," he assured.

But not for long, she thought.

**THE NEXT DAY:**

If there was one thing George knew for certain, it was this: in this world, there were two types of people. The first, and most common, were people that believed everything came to them without trying. Their fate was in another being's hands, and whatever happened, happened. The second, and rarer of the two, were people that realized the truth; nothing is free. Every little thing you get it is to be WORKED for, not just handed to you. This applied to the most obvious (money) and even the more subtle (love).

George Harrison was a very good example of the second group of people. Whereas his friend, Paul, was an excellent of showing of the first.

Another thing George knew was that people who were in the first group—or the second group, for that matter—could not help themselves. They were born the way they were, and that was that. They did not change as they grew older, and that is because it takes a true thinker to realize that the two groups exist. And because George prided himself in knowing about the existence of The Truth, he forgave Paul for being so naïve and lazy, because Paul didn't even realize he was showing these traits.

Take, for example, the afternoon Paul and George spent together that cool, autumn day. For the past couple weeks, all Paul could talk about was the loss of a girl he had fancied. George was getting rather tired of him talking about it, to be perfectly honest, and it was only a matter of days before he snapped. Paul, in addition to being remorseful and sulky, was becoming moody. This burdened George greatly.

"If you want her back so much, why don't you walk over to her house and apologize?" George suggested warily, extremely tired of the conversation at hand.

Paul sighed, as if the one year gap between him and George made him so much wiser. "You don't understand how it IS with women. You can't just go running back to them! That shows weakness. And everybody knows that a woman will take full advantage of you if she thinks you have a weakness."

George rolled his eyes as dramatically as possible, but Paul didn't even notice.

"I visit Cecilia all the time, and don't you know, it's starting to pay off." He beamed with pride. "I'm telling you, it won't hurt to try and be there for her."

Paul discarded this information. "Have you ever slept with a woman?" he asked abruptly, focusing in on George's thick head of hair.

The younger boy looked down at his feet, having no other answer but a resounding NO to that question. He figured it would be better for his dignity if he didn't say anything at all. Paul interpreted his silence correctly.

"I'm tellin' ya," he insisted, "it's all different after the deed's been done. Nothing's the same."

George knew this to be true, of course. Ever since Cassidy and Paul had Done It, Paul had literally been a sex-crazed maniac. Why, it had to be the day AFTER his and Cassidy's little romance was over, he came home from Blackpool bragging about how he had laid and older woman. And the next night after that it had been the school's slut, Marilyn Bent. And the night after THAT it had been some random bird that he thought was pretty. And that was only the beginning.

"Right," he mumbled, looking at his feet. He knew him and Cecilia were just friends, and there was no WAY Cecilia would ever tolerate that, but he couldn't pretend he hadn't thought about it a few times.

Paul clapped a hand on his mate's shoulder reassuringly. "Ah, don't worry 'bout it. You're still too young, anyways."

George nodded silently.

"And anyways, I'm expecting Cass to call me up sooner than later. We've gotta bond she just can't stand to break, ya know?"

"She seems resolute." George was surprised by his words, having not meant to speak them at all. He had talked to Cassidy Farrell quite a few times since the whole Alley/Paul incident (mostly recovering from Cecilia-attacks) and he realized that she really, really wasn't ready to forgive Paul. Or her ex-best friend Alley, for that matter.

Paul frowned, as if this was news he wasn't expecting at all. "Oh?"

"Yeah."

"I see."

"Mhmm."

There was a rather awkward pause at this point, a breeze floating in from the south and sweeping Paul's light brown locks off his forehead. He cool breeze shocked his mind, which was almost as livid and burning as the pit of his stomach. Cassidy didn't want him back. She really didn't.

Suddenly, Paul stood up. "I have to go to band practice. John needs to discuss a song," he announced.

George licked his thin lips, accessing the situation with his intelligent, dark chocolate eyes. "Yes, well, we wouldn't want to keep John waiting, would we?"

The older boy shook his head briskly, then slung his guitar case over his shoulder. "I'll see ya around then?" he inquired.

"Any time at all," he answered.

…

_Twang! Twang! Twang! Twang!_

John was mindlessly plucking at the strings on his guitar while sitting on his bed. He was trying to finish the new song he had been raving to Paul about but nothing was coming to his mind. He stroked the strings, his mind racing with other thoughts as he did so. It seemed that for the past few days, he couldn't concentrate on anything. His mind always turned over the same thoughts, over and over again like a marry-go-round stuck on loop. And what could possibly be on John Lennon's mind that would distract him from his music?

Alley, of course.

Even though he had assured her that he wasn't mad—and it was true, he wasn't-there was something bothering him. A little thing was pulling at the edges of his consciousness and forcing him to pay attention. Alley had kissed Paul and much to his chagrin, it was bothering the hell out of him. Just thinking that she would kiss someone else made something inside him snap and it made him feel sort of sick. And the fact that it was his best friend just made the dagger go deeper into his heart. Okay so maybe technically he shouldn't be complaining. After all, he did sleep with his fair share of girls—even recently. But he couldn't stop what he felt. And thinking of Alley kissing someone else hurt him.

"Ugh, fuck!" he loudly cursed, grabbing his right hand with his left and groaning in pain. He hadn't been paying attention to his guitar as his mind raced with thoughts about Alley. He didn't notice that he was strumming so hard and only when one of the strings snapped and sliced his hand did he take notice. Cursing even louder this time, he put his guitar onto his bed and walked to the closet, looking for an extra string.

Finally after a few minutes he found the string and lumbered back to the bed to put it on the guitar. After he wrapped his bleeding hand with a dirty t-shirt he picked up from the floor, he began to fasten the new string to his guitar. When he was done, he threw the broken string to the ground and put the guitar beside him before throwing himself back onto the pillows. He needed to get a hold of himself and force the whole Alley-kissing-Paul situation out of his mind before he went completely barmy. It happened and now it was all said and done and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He just had to move on and hope that nothing like this would happen again because after all, he hated the feeling of hurt more than anything else. He sat up and grabbed his guitar, forcing himself to concentrate on what he was playing. Paul was meeting him at Julia's house soon and he didn't want to come off as a complete mess. So in true John fashion, he pushed his feelings farther down into himself until he couldn't feel them anymore.

…

Paul sped away from George, his mind whirling. George was right. He was so, SO right, yet he couldn't stand to hear the words he was saying. Cass wasn't going to just come crawling back to him, he KNEW that, yet he couldn't just show up at her house. Or could he...?

A sudden urge to see her overcame him, and he nearly sprinted through town, until he made it to the street where the Farrells lived. He stood in the street, looking up at the towering, white house. He had no idea what Cassidy's father did, but they must be pretty well-off. How had he never thought to ask this before? As he was watching the house, he saw a figure float by in the window, her bouncing auburn curls bounding behind her. His heart nearly stopped, and he knew the truth; he couldn't do this. So, without another word, he turned and walked down the street, stopping at Alley's house a couple doors down. Taking a deep breath, he moved to knock on the door, but before he could it was opened from underneath his knuckles...

Alley, just about to walk out of the house, nearly had a heart attack when she almost walked into one Paul McCartney. She back up against the door, holding a hand over her heart. She shook her head and offered him a wry grin. "Fuck McCartney, you scared the shit outta me!"

"Sorry, luv," he said, smiling sheepishly at his feet. "I was just...er...having a walk, and I happened to pass your house." He determinedly trained his eyes on Alley, ignoring the big white splotch that loomed in his peripherals.

"Uh-huh." Alley crossed her arms, giving him a look that told him that she wasn't buying his flimsy excuse for a second. "Oh really? And you just happened to go for a walk all the way down here because...?" She casually cast her eyes over to the white house a few doors down.

Paul didn't follow her gaze. "Because I'm madly in love with you, and I just HAD to come see you." He grinned widely, hoping that she would just accept it and move on.

"Oh," Alley said, nodding as if believing him. She put both hands on his shoulders and stared into his warm eyes. "Isn't that a relief? I was just coming to tell you how much I love you!"

Paul shrugged her off, turning around and sitting on one of her porch stairs. His shoulders slumped, and he found himself feeling that familiar hole in chest. "Don't even shit with me. That's the reason we're in this mess anyways."

Alley sighed deeply and plopped down next to him, playing with a string of grass that was taller than the others. She continued to look down as she spoke. Her voice was in a sort of low whisper. "Yeah. I know. I can't believe I said- you know... what I fucking said."

Paul didn't even say anything. His mind was playing over the events of that night. How many time had he imagined it going another way? How often did he wish he had never asked that nice old man if he had seen Alley and John? Things would be so different... "This is my fault," he said finally. "You said things, but you wouldn't have had to say them if it hadn't been for me."

"Oh come on," Alley said, abandoning the blade of grass to look at Paul. She could see the guilt on his face and she immediately felt bad that he felt so bad. It was like a vicious cycle. "It's not your fault! Me and John are the ones who ran to Blackpool!"

Paul cast his eyes down again. "She wouldn't be so biased if I hadn't gotten her to sleep with me." He cringed at his words, realizing how horrible they sounded.

Alley felt her eyes widen until they nearly popped out. "You-you made her sleep with you?"

"I didn't MAKE her, per se. But..." He hesitated, finally allowing himself to look at her house. His gaze remained there as he spoke. "But it was my idea. She was really, really mad at me, and I was just trying to make her LESS mad, and...and..." He couldn't find the words to keep going, so instead he stopped altogether.

"Ugh!" Alley groaned and smacked Paul's arm, hard and on purpose. She wanted to do much worse. "Come on, Paul! I didn't think you were so-so- John!"

"That was sorta the point," Paul admitted, laughing in spite of himself. John was a bastard, he knew, but he was the best bastard he had ever met, and for some reason everyone loved him for it. It added to his charm, some girls would say. "It's only gotten worse." He wasn't sure why he was telling Alley this...wouldn't she only get angrier with him? She didn't necessarily NEED to know about Marilyn Bent, did she?

"Oh God!" Alley said, burying her head into her hands. She could only imagine what would come out of Paul's mouth next. He was supposed to be the sweet little boy next door not the man-whore rockstar. With a groan and a sense that she didn't want to know anymore she urged him to go on. "What did you do?"

"Some...other girls." He wouldn't elaborate, that's all. Who said that he NEEDED to tell her, anyways? She was only going to yell. Thinking about what he had done, he blushed scarlet, turning his head so Alley couldn't see him.

"Oh. Well. Wonderful!" She considered smacking him again but decided agaisnt it. Really, what was the point? He was a sort of adult and he could make his own decisions. His own stupid, idiotic, retarded decisions. "Come on, Macca," she said, giving his shoulder a slight push. "Who?"

"Just a few," he said nonchalantly, shrugging. He wasn't going to tell her. No fucking way. He didn't need another lecture tonight.

"A few?" Alley echoed, trying to restrain herself from grabbing him and punching him across the face. He "loved" Cass and yet he was going around fucking two bit whores? Oh yeah that's a real gesture of love! She took a breath and forced herself to calm down. "Just fuckin' tell me and stop being a coward! You did it so there's no point in hiding it!"

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter."

"It obviously does."

Paul recoiled against the harshness of her tone. He abandoned that utter resolve he had before, as that was obviously for shit. "Just a few girls you don't know, okay? And..." He hesitated. Fuck. Shit. Why'd he have to be so stupid?

"Marilyn Bent." The name rang out around the street, and if Cass was outside, she certainly would have heard him. He leaned forward, making sure that she wasn't there, and continued in a much lower voice. "The day after we got back from Blackpool, and I...ermmm...you know-ed with Marilyn Bent. Happy?"

Alley felt her jaw drop. She swore it actually struck the concrete ground. She was sputtering, trying to get some words to come out of her mouth but nothing would come out.

He couldn't look at her, couldn't try and make himself look better. Because the honest to God truth? He did it because he was upset, and he thought Cass might hear about and get jealous. But she didn't, and he was so fucking thankful that she didn't know.

"Really, Paul? Really?"

"I know," he said softly. "I know." His voice great slightly in strength as he pulled himself together. "John does it all the time." That, he knew, was not saying much.

Alley felt a stab of hurt at that but ignored it. "You're not John."

Paul swallowed roughly. "Well then who the hell am I? Because I'm awfully fucking tired of being Not John."

Alley looked confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, sighing through his nostrils. "It's just that...when I had Cassidy, I knew who I was-I was the guy who lived for a girl. And now that I've lost her...who am I? I have no other CHOICE than to do those things that John does."

"You are a fucking idiot," Alley said with much more venom in her voice then she intended.

Paul looked at her with wide eyes, completely stung. "Wh...what?"

"You are a fucking idiot," she repeated, turning on him. Her eyes bore right into his. "You claim to love Cassidy so much and be the guy who lived for her. And after one fight you drop her like a sack of hammers because you have no other bloody choice? You'd rather fuck cheap whores than to fight for her?" She grunted in disgust and shook her head at him, truly angry with him at that moment. "You are a fucking idiot, McCartney."

Paul blinked, speechless. What could he say to that? He didn't want to admit it to himself, but...what she was saying was one hundred percent the truth. He looked down with a troubled gaze, then back up. He knew immediately what he had to do. Silently, he stood up, marching over to the big white house that haunted his dreams. He stood there, watching it, afraid of what would happen if he knocked on the door.

Alley watched him retreat from her and she sprung off the step, grabbing him before he could get any farther. She spun him around and pushed him back towards her house. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

Paul yanked his arm back, frowning deeply. "I'm doing EXACTLY what you just told me to do, aren't I? You don't know how many times I've walked past this house and..." He stared up at it, entranced. SHE was in there right now, somewhere, doing God knows what.

"Okay Paul?" she said, turning his face away from the house. She started to lead him back to her porch steps and thankfully, he didn't resist. "You can't go there now. First of all, she'll slam the door in your face. Possibly after kicking you in the balls. So maybe you want to rethink your little plan?"

He stared after him, completely crushed. "I know I'm just saying the same things over and over again, but..." He shook his head, trying to find the right words. "I just wish I could find some way to let her know how sorry I am."

"Probably should stop fucking other girls."

"Ha," he laughed dryly, managing a smile. He looked up, noticing the change in the sky from bright afternoon sun to shadowy evening. "I was supposed to meet John about an hour ago," he muttered, rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles. "He's been going on about some song or something."

"Oh," Alley said, feeling something strange stir inside her at the mention of John. She hadn't seen him since Blackpool and even though he said he wasn't mad, she was nervous to see him. "Yeah- I should- go-see him-at- some time..."

"Come with me." It wasn't really a request, nor was it a command. It was sorta just a suggestion, put out there at random in the hopes that she would latch onto it.

"What?" Alley shook her head. She was about to ask him where they were going but then she caught onto it. And she shook her head. "Oh nope... no, no no! I'm not coming with you to visit your best friend and make it less awkward which would only make it more awkward! No, no, I'm going to see him later!"

Paul frowned, cocking his head to the side. "He's not mad...at least, I don't think so. Then again, you can never tell with him. He yells when he's happy, just to get a kick out of it, and then when he's mad he sorta...broods. Sorta."

"He's not mad," Alley said, not feeling the least bit confident. "Well he told me he wasn't. But he looked... hurt."

He shrugged, hoisting his guitar up from her stairs and taking a few steps away. "Mad or not, he's gonna think you're avoiding him if you spend too much time away." He cast another glance in the general direction of Cassidy's house. "We both know that."

Alley nodded. "I know, I know. I'll go...later. When you guys are finished practice."

Paul laughed at nothing, shaking his head, and began to walk away. "The way John's going on about this song, we'll never be finished."

"What song?" Alley asked, cocking her head to the side. "It can't be that good. What, did you think you guys were gonna be famous or something?" She was grinning fully now.

Paul didn't say anything, just continued to walk. The only action he gave her was to raise his left hand above his head, his middle finger sticking straight up at her.

Alley laughed loudly now and returned the gesture. "Yeah I love you too, McCartney!"

Paul chuckled into the evening air, unable to keep a sort of radiating warmth from spreading from his heart to his very toes. It seemed like it had been forever seen he'd had a casual conversation that didn't include "Your place or mine?" or "Meet me in the alley.". It almost seemed like...it almost seemed at though him and Alley were becoming good friends. Which was good-GREAT-but it still wasn't enough to fill a little void that he felt somewhere in his chest. He didn't laugh enough now, or so John told him. And George had been very articulate on the fact that he talked about Cassidy too much. Maybe if he stopped thinking about her, stopped pining after her, maybe THEN he could let go of her and move on.

Paul passed her house just as he was thinking this, glancing up at the overpowering whiteness of it. There was something in him, something relatively close to his heart, that was telling him that yes, one day he WOULD have to move on. Some day he would hardly ever think of Cassidy Farrell and this...this feeling he had for her would evaporate. But today...today was not that day.

…

_Okay, okay, you can do this. No, no, no I can't do this. No, it's okay, maybe I can do this. There's no problem here, really. I'll be totally fine. Oh bloody hell, who am I kidding? I can't do this! So should I leave? No, I'll do this._

Alley was having a fight with herself as she paced in front of John's house. It has been days and she decided it was finally time to go see him. They weren't fighting or anything, it was just that Alley was afraid to face him after the Blackpool meltdown. But she missed him and now it seemed like he was the only person she could go to. Cass was mad at her, for good reason, and without her, Alley had no one. Okay sure, there was Paul-the newly appointed John-wannabe man-whore—but she was almost afraid to be seen alone with him now, for fear of running her (non-existent) relationship with Cass even more. Sighing, she turned and took a tentative step towards the house. It looked quiet and empty and for a fleeting moment, she entertained the idea that he wasn't home. But the sudden voice behind her made her jump and confirmed that she was wrong.

"Goin' for a stroll, love?"

Alley spun around, a hand over her het fast-beating heart. Generally, she was a jumpy person and so when he snuck up behind her she almost had a heart attack. She half-smiled though, taking in his appearance. He was dressed darkly that day in black jeans, a black t-shirt and leather jacket. His hair-always messy—was flopped down over his forehead and he had his guitar in one head, his cigarette in the other. The way he looked at her, sizing her up with his piercing eyes, caused a chill to run through her. They were standing there, staring at each other and Alley thought she should speak. After all, she was the one who came to his house. So she racked her brain and tried to think of the smartest thing to say.

"Hi."

Or maybe not so smart.

"'Ello," John replied, chuckling as he threw his cigarette on the ground and stomped on it. He seemed to be in a jolly mood which made Alley feel better. Moving past her to sit on his porch, he said, "What brings you 'round here?"

Alley shrugged and sat down beside him. "Bored. Nothing to do. Don't fancy spending the evening with a drunk Royce."

John nodded, looking pensive. "No, I reckon not."

It was quiet between them now and Alley didn't like that. She was not about to let an awkward silence develop between her and John. She thought of ways to make conversation but everything she thought sounded stupid in her mind. Her eyes travelled to the guitar in John's lap and decided it was good enough. Anything to end the growing silence.

"You just came from practice?" she asked, nodding towards his guitar.

"Oh-yeah," John said, looking down, sort of surprised, like he just noticed he was holding his guitar. He sighed though and ran a hand through his hair. "It wasn't very fuckin' productive though!"

"Why?"

"Because," John replied, laying his guitar beside him and leaning back on his hands. "All the bastard could bloody talk about was Cass!" He shook his head and tolled his eyes as the events of the past few hours played through his mind. "If I didn't need my guitar, I'd have smashed it over his head!"

Alley couldn't help but giggle at that. She still felt really horrible about the whole thing and how it was pretty much her (and Paul's) fault. But Paul annoying the hell out of John was something she couldn't help but laugh at. John shook his head again but his face broke out into a smile and he chuckled along with her.

"Honestly John," Alley said with a sigh, "Paul is really screwed up. This whole thing is changing him."

"How so?"

"For one thing," Alley began, "he's depressed, kind of. He's beating himself up over this whole thing and he talks a fuckin' blue streak about Cass and getting her back. And then he's fucking girls left and right like the world's gonna end tomorrow!"

John smirked. "He told me. I didn't think the bugger had it in him."

"I'm sorry," Alley said, trying to understand him, "Are you proud of him?"

John's grin told her all she needed to know. She groaned in disgust.

"He's a man-whore and you're congratulating him?" she asked incredulously. With another groan, she shook her head. "Men! You're all the same! Bloody fuckin', man-whore, bastard, wankers!"

John laughed out loud at her sudden outburst of curses. He couldn't say that he as angry or disappointed in Paul because it would be a lie. He was young and a man and that's really what they do! Although the disgust on Alley's face made him feel a stab of hurt inside. After all, he was exactly like that—even worse. Alley huffed and crossed her arms, fixing him with a glare.

"Now what?"

"Nothing," She shrugged non-chalantly. "Paul just pissed me off today. Sighing now, she turned to him. "But whatever. It's his life and he'll be fine. My life sucks, by the way."

John chuckled but quickly turned serious. "Cass won't talk to you?"

"No." Alley shook her head, trying to ignore the sadness she felt inside. Cass had basically written her off when they got back from Blackpool. She wouldn't return her calls or anything and Alley felt horrible. "She hates me, John," Alley said, looking up at him, her eyes revealing how much pain she actually felt.

"She doesn't hate you," John said, his voice comforting and reassuring. He put his hand over hers and she felt warmness swirl inside of her. "She's just upset."

Alley offered a weak smile but didn't feel any better. "I just- she won't talk to me. We've had fights before but never like this. Oh God John, she really hates me!" She buried her head into his should but didn't cry. He put his arm around her and they remained like that for a few moments.

"Listen to me," he said, pushing her up so she was looking into his eyes. "You and Cass are bloody best friends! Just because you're having a row now doesn't mean you won't speak to each other ever again! You need to give it time."

"And how about Paul?"

"The same thing," John replied in that same reassuring tone. It was silent for a few more moments until John suddenly jumped up. "Come on," he said. "Let's go."

Alley looked at him funny. "Huh? Go where?"

John didn't reply at first. He walked up the stairs, quickly opened the door to his house and stuck the guitar in the front hallway. After he locked the door and walked back down the porch stairs, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to a standing position. "You need to get your mind off all this crap," he said, pulling her down the street.

"So where are we going then?"

"Out," was John's reply. They chuckled together as he pulled her around the corner and nearly crashed both of them into an unsuspecting posh old couple. "We are gonna have some fun!"

And with that, they were off to have some sort of "fun". Alley didn't care because whatever they were about to do would take away her guilt and allow her to feel free and happy, if only for a little while. And she was grateful that she would be doing it with John.

**Catie AN: Alley and John are adorable as fuck. Not gonna lie…I'm pretty darn jealous.**

**Addie AN: Hahah lol. I'm jealous too. Cause technically I just made it up. Ahh but I love them! But they aren't sickingly sweet adorable! Badass adorable!**

**Catie AN: Yeah. Sure. Just keep tellin yourself that.**

**Addie AN: Well they are. Not like the cutesy Paul and Cass that makes ya wanna barf.**

**Catie AN: Just go die, Addie. Leave me alone.**

**Addie AN: Now hey that's rude.**

**Catie AN: Yeah, seriously. Two girls got suspended from my school for saying that (jokinly, of course) about another girl. In English. Once again, as a joke. Like me. I was kidding...**

**Awkwwwwwwwwwwward.**

**Addie AN: Really? Even jokingly? Well okay it is mean to say to someone and can really hurt someone. But suspension? Pretty severe. Yes of course I knew you were kidding...**

**Catie AN: Okay. Enough nonsense. We must go now. SO REVIEW!**

**Addie AN: Yes we must. And yeah... REVIEW! Because honestly... last chapter's reviews? Just... REVIEW!**

**Catie AN: Ohhh, Addie. LMFAO. I agree.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Addie AN: Whoooa shit! It has been a terribly long time since we put up last chapter. Seriously. Well, sorry about the delay but we have been busy... school (which I go back to tomorrow...yay...fun...not), family, Christmas, New Years, etc. But- we haven't forgotten about this story! And here is a brand new, VERY intense chapter. So... read it people!**

**Catie AN: Ahh yes, unfortunatley I, too, go back to school tomorrow. I feel this break has had little to no productivity from me. HOWEVER! This particular chapter is quite good, and I think you people should just read. Soooo...do that, will you?**

...

The girl stood in front of her locker, chatting amiably with one of her faux-friends. Cecilia took a deep breath, taking measured steps toward the girl. She could feel her resolution fading with every step she took.

No, she had to do this. Determination seeped through her veins.

"H-Hello?" she asked, hoping that she got the tone exactly right. She had to sound sure of herself, like this is what she was put on this Earth to do, yet she also had to sound like a meek little freshman, talking to a big bad senior girl. Cecilia felt that she'd nailed it.

Apparently, so did the girl. "What?" she responded, in an only SLIGHTLY rude tone.

"I-I have some…er...NEWS, you could say, that might interest you."

The girl's friends looked down at Cecilia in interest, and their mindless chatter instantly halted. They wanted to know. But the girl herself didn't look to into it. She merely shrugged, leaning back into the locker with an almost careless ease.

Cecilia wasn't sure if she should continue.

"Um…"

"Well, spit it out then, freshie!"

So she DID know who she was. Feeling slightly more assured, Cecilia leaned forward. "I'm assuming you know my older sister? Cassidy Farrell?"

A cold, heartless sneer appeared on the girl's face. She looked as though she'd never hated a person more than she hated Cecilia's sister, and in an odd way, this comforted Cecilia. It really shouldn't. It should do the opposite. Yet, Cecilia had always felt a slight…what was the word? Separation, division, alienation, you could say, from Cassidy. They were never sisters…more like distant cousins. It shouldn't have been that way, but it was. Cecilia could probably thank her mother for that.

"And I'm also assuming you know Paul McCartney, right?" The smirk instantly dropped from the girl's face. Cecilia could tell she'd hit a rough spot. "Him and Cassidy have been off for a while now, but I guess they had a Thing or something." She tried her best to sound blasé, as though Paul wasn't that great. Ha. Right.

The girl pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her bag, lit one with ease, and then plopped it into the corner of her mouth. "He's a complete douche. What's this about, kid? You're wasting my time."

Cecilia took a deep breath, careful not to inhale the smoke that was pouring off from the tip of the ciggy. She absolutely despised smoking, probably the one thing in common she shared with Cass.

"Well, they've been fucking around." The words sounded harsh and cold coming from her lips. "Literally."

The girl's eyebrows shot up in surprise, the cigarette almost falling out of her mouth. "Paul? And…and Cassidy? THAT nerd? No fucking way."

Cecilia nodded. All of a sudden, she felt as though she could not say anything. There was a feeling deep, deep in her stomach, one that she had never felt before, that was telling her it was time to stop. That maybe it wasn't such a good idea to do this at all. Why WAS she even doing this? It made no sense…Cassidy was her God damned SISTER!

But, too late, the damage was done.

The girl leaned in. "I bet she's screwed all kinds of guys, if she's done him, because you KNOW he gets around. Whatta slut!"

Cecilia winced. "Yeah, but—"

The girl laughed madly. "I don't know why you told me this, you little bitch, but I can promise you that you won't be sorry." She dropped the cigarette, which landed at Cecilia's feet. "Put that out for me?"

Before she could respond, the girl was marching down the hall with her friends, looking dangerously excited. It was all Cecilia could do to raise her foot, stomp down on the smoke, and watch as the nicotine and ash spurted up from underneath her shiny black school shoes. It reminded her of a heart being squeezed of all its blood because something stomped on it.

What had she done?

…

Alley rushed down the partially crowded hallways, trying to stuff a book into her bag while not really watching where she was going. The first bell had already rung and even though she didn't particularly didn't care if she was late or not, she found herself rushing. Maybe because she didn't want to find herself the only one without a seat which would then force her to sit next to Cass. No one wanted to sit with Cass in the first place because of the whole "slut" rumour that made its way around the school as gossip tends to do. It angered Alley when she first heard it but she couldn't do much about it. Her and Cass weren't on speaking terms- which was also a known fact by now- and she didn't know who started the rumour in the first place.

With a groan, she finally pushed her book into her tattered brown bag and just as she looked up, she smacked full on with someone walking in the opposite direction. Choking on the curse that was rolling over her tongue, she felt her eyes go wide and her heart give a little jump.

Cass.

She was staring directly at Cass. Her breath was caught on her throat and the English language was lost her right then. But a few seconds later, she regained her composure and felt her normal stony mask slip over her features. She stared at her once best friend with eye-brows raised as if to ask what she was doing there.

Cassidy jumped back, her heart beating fast. She had kept her head down, trying to breath normally after that huge lunch room stunt that had happened just a couple periods before. After all the staring in her other classes, she knew she couldn't face the one class she shared with Alley. As Alley stared down at her-her face showing nothing, but her eyes hinting at disgust-Cass found her hard resolve start to melt, and she felt her face crumple once again. Just like it had in the lunch room. If there was one thing she knew about people her age, it was that they leapt at the first sign of weakness. I.e. tears. She bit her trembling lips, trying to keep them together and stop them from shaking so badly.

She mumbled a quick, "Excuse me," and pushed past the girl she had once confided her deepest feelings to.

Alley closed her eyes and let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. Every fibre of her being wanted to grab Cass and pull her back and make her stand in the hallway until this whole STUPID issue was resolved. But as it was well known in the world, people hardly ever did what their intuition told them in situations like these. With another shake of her head, Alley sighed and turned, continuing on her way to class where she was sure Cass would not be. She didn't blame her though. Had the situations been reversed, she honestly didn't know what she would feel. She silently cursed herself as she felt her heart break a little bit more.

...

Cassidy ate in silence, as she usually did these days. Even the slightest upset in her new daily schedule would result in chaos the entire day, and chaos was never good when you were trying to keep a low profile.

For the first time in a very, very long time, she happened a glance at the table she USED to sit at. Paul sat across from Alley and John, and both Paul and Alley seemed to be cracking up at something John had said. If Cassidy was there, she would probably be making some snide comment about how immature John was, and then be secretly laughing to herself so it wouldn't look like she liked John too much.

But things were different now.

She kept her eyes on Paul, the way his big, round hazel eyes lit up when he chortled with laughter. His full lips parted, bringing his Coke bottle to them and taking a swig. Was it just her, or did his eyes swivel slightly and gaze at her for a moment? No, it must have been her imagination, for the next second he was leaning across the table, saying something to Alley that made her crack up in laughter all over again.

"He's a cutie, isn't he?"

Cassidy jumped ten feet in the air, her face instantly turning a dark red. She recognized that voice, that voice that came to her from her darkest nightmares.

Marilyn Bent leaned lavishly onto her table, her long, straight blonde hair flowing over her back. She looked the picture of ease, as if the conversation she was having was just a normal, everyday thing. As if she lowered herself to talk to losers like Cassidy Farrell all the time.

"Isn't he?" she repeated, exaggerating every syllable as though Cass was slow or something.

"No," Cassidy lied through her teeth, looking away from Marilyn.

"Oh really?" the other girl hissed, leaning in and getting right into Cassidy's face. "Because I heard differently."

Cassidy's heart leapt. Just leave me alone, just leave me alone, she chanted inside her head, an invisible mantra. "Whoever you heard THAT from is a liar."

Marilyn's face puckered, mock-pouting. "Oh, so you're just friends?"

She had her there. Cassidy and Paul weren't exactly friends any more. Were they even friends to begin with? She had no idea. "We're not friends, if you haven't noticed." She indicated the distance between her table, and the table where the people she used to be friendly with sat.

"Well, I guess people will find the rumors harder to believe, then, huh?" She smiled a sickly sweet smile, reaching over to pat Cassidy's hand condescendingly. She stood up, smoothing down the uniform skirt she wore a few inches too short.

Marilyn hovered there for a few moments, waiting for Cassidy to take the bait.

"Wait—what rumors?" She HAD to know. If she didn't, it would bother her all day.

"Oh, you know," Marilyn said, waving her hand dismissively. "Just those little stories about how—er—close you and Paul got a few weeks back."

Cassidy's heart was racing. There was no way—NO WAY—in hell Marilyn Bent could know about this. Who would have been cruel enough to tell her? She took a deep breath before saying, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Marilyn's pretty, fake features adopted a very, very real looking sneer. She leaned close to Cassidy's ear, her hot breath giving Cass the chills.

"Of course you do, slut."

That did it. Cassidy's heart completely stopped, leaving her gulping for air. Marilyn withdrew her head, looking triumphant. Cass continued to gape at the other girl, speechless, while she examined her fingernails.

"And now," Marilyn continued, as if she needed to go any further, "he doesn't even like you. Shame, isn't it?" And with that, she strode away, her shoes making empty, hollow clacking sounds throughout the cafeteria, which seemed silent to Cassidy. She could hear her blood pumping in her ears, all her thoughts about maintaining her daily schedule evaporating.

A horrible, raw, choking feeling clung to the back of her throat, filling her eyes with tears as she tried to swallow it down. Surely, she would die of embarrassment, her face so red a person might have mistaken her for a tomato. Her limbs felt heavy, her mind was foggy. One thought was able to penetrate the haze that filled her brain; get out of here, and get out of here fast.

She rose to her feet, nearly knocking over the abandoned lunch tray that was still waiting for her at the table. She crossed the lunch room, urging her feet to move faster, the door seeming to be farther and farther away.

She was halfway there where she heard the first whisper.

"Stupid slut."

She froze, unable to coax her legs into moving. Slut? One time makes you a SLUT?

"Look, the whore's forgotten how to walk."

That one came from right next to her, and her head swiveled around, making her face to face with the table where her little sister was watching her with grim satisfaction. All of a sudden, she knew who started this rumor.

A quiet chant started from across the room.

SLUT! SLUT! SLUT! SLUT!

She couldn't help it; tears began streaming down her face. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air. And still, she could not move. Her eyes sought out the table where she once sat, now occupied with three blank, staring faces. She stared back at each one individually, trying to will at least ONE of them to do something. But they just looked at her.

Now the chant was deafening, as nearly everyone in the cafeteria had decided to join in.

SLUT! SLUT! SLUT! SLUT!

The workers in the room tried to quiet the hungry, animal like students, but they were ravenous and could not be stopped by this point. People began banging their fists on their tables, demanding Cassidy's immediate removal from their presence.

Cass was full out sobbing as she turned and sprinted out of the room, a cheer rising up as soon as she was out the door.

Surely, this was hell.

...

The Liverpool weather was the same as always that day; cold and rainy with no chance of the sun coming through the clouds. But there was something weird that day with the weather. It seemed to be a little colder and a little rainier. It was almost if the weather was trying to warn the unsuspecting Liverpudlians that something was going to happen that day. Or maybe not just one thing but a few events of untold sadness and misery. But for Alley and John, they day was like any other and as they ran through the old field, their thoughts were filled with nothing but fun and happiness. They had decided to skip their last class that day—it was John's idea actually but Alley went along with it—and now they were running toward the huge tree in the field where John often went to be alone. At lunch that day, when she and John ate with a half-responsive Paul, John had made the mistake of calling Alley a girlie girl. And as stubborn as ever, Alley set out to prove to him that she wasn't. The tree in said field was the oldest and biggest tree there and was always being climbed by the neighborhood children who dared. Alley bet John that she could climb to the highest branch of the tree and grab the kite that was stuck on its peak. This kite, now tattered and worn with time, had seemed to be there since anyone could remember. Many tried to attain it and claim the record of climbing the tree but no one had done it yet. Alley was out to prove them (and John) wrong. John himself had tried once or twice but quickly gave up and was now content to sit in the tree and stare out into the vast field whenever he went off by himself. But he wasn't opposed to Alley trying to get it. Hell, he even had a feeling that she might succeed.

"Come on, ya fuckin' slow poke!" Alley called once she reached the tree. She threw herself against its grand trunk and tried to catch her breath. John made it to her side a few seconds later.

"Fuck!" he said, panting as if he had just run a long race. "Bloody slow down next time!"

Alley grinned and slapped a hand on his shoulder. "Cheer up, son! Maybe you'll beat me next time!"

John shrugged her off with a wry smirk and reached up to grab the low-hanging tree branch. He pulled himself up with a grunt, the school-issued uniform shirt lifting slightly as he did so. Once he was seated properly on the branch, he held out his hand towards her to pull her up. Alley playfully smacked his hand away with a short laugh and lifted herself up onto the branch, now sitting next to him. The gray and blue skirt that she was made to wear for school caught on a branch for a moment and she forcefully ripped it free, causing a tear in the fragile fabric. John chuckled as she scowled at the skirt as if it were its fault that it ripped. But when Alley saw the kite waving in the wind like some enemy flag just waiting to be taken, she grinned widely. John followed her gaze and soon his grin matched hers.

"You think you can do it?" he asked earnestly. He admired her for wanting to attempt the climb but there was also a knot of worry in his stomach. But her smile assured him and he pushed it away.

"Of course I can!" she exclaimed with a bit of uncertainty in her voice. He didn't catch it and more to assure herself she whispered, "It'll be fine."

_If Cass knew I was doing this she would have a heart attack! _Alley thought, grinning at the expression she imagined on her once best friend's face. Cass would definitely not approve and she would do anything to stop Alley from doing something so crazy and obviously dangerous. And maybe in the end Alley would listen to her friend and not climb the stupid tree. But as it turned out, Cass wasn't there and also with that, her voice of reason that always seemed to keep Alley grounded. This time literally. But the only voice Alley heard was her own and it was urging her to keep going forward; to climb that tree, grab that kite and be seen forever as the girl(not girlie girl, mind you) who dared to try and succeeded.

So when John asked her if she was ready, she gave him her best grin and pulled herself up one branch higher, beginning her trek to the top. She kept her mind focused and did not look down once. Each time she lifted herself higher and made it, she felt the trapped breath she was holding leave her in a relieved whoosh. Her eyes were trained at the top and she did not shift her gaze at all, not even when she heard John cry out happily when she finally reached the top. She was standing on the highest branch now, holding herself upright by gripping the thick trunk of the tree. The branch on which she stood was pretty sturdy in itself and Alley was starting to feel comfortable up there. Now she was within reaching distance of the kite and she began to feel the excitement rise in her chest. It was a smidge out of her each and she had to lean forward and lift one leg to make herself closer to it. She reached and stretched, groaning from the effort until finally, her hand wrapped around it and she ripped it free. With a cry of triumph and glee, she looked down to where John stood and waved the kite at him. He laughed and clapped his hands in delight.

"I did it!" she called down to him with pure happiness in her voice. She turned her body so she was staring straight down at him. Her hand was not gripping the tree anymore and she was using her legs solely for balance. "I did it!" she said again and he laughed from down below.

"Great!" John called to her, his hands cupped around his mouth to help carry his voice. "Now would you get your arse down here?" He was smiling and he was proud of her but there was still the knot of worry in his stomach. And the longer Alley remained up there, the more it grew. He would feel safer when she was back on the ground.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Alley called down and grabbed the tree trunk again, preparing to take her first step, down onto the lower tree trunk. But suddenly there was a gust of wind and Alley was pushed back. Desperately she tried to keep her footing on the branch but it became slippery and she felt herself fall backwards, failing to grab onto a branch to save herself. The last thought that went through her mind was about Cass.

_I hope she knows how much I care about her…._

John watched in silent horror as Alley was pushed over by the wind and he couldn't utter a scream as she sailed towards the ground with alarming speed. It was like it was happening in slow motion and he watched her fall, frozen in his spot. He couldn't call out, he didn't run forward to catch her. It was almost as if he was on the outside looking in at someone else's life. But when she hit the ground with a loud _thud, _he broke out of his shock and ran towards her. She didn't look….dead but she wasn't moving. She had landed flat on her back so none of her limbs were broken but when he gently put his hand under her head, he felt something warm and sticky. Once he pulled it back, he saw that it was red with her blood. And without a second thought, he sprung into action. He lifted her into his arms and began to carry her in the direction of the hospital.

Nearly forty five minutes later, a tired but strong-willed John burst through the doors of the Liverpool hospital with a still un-responsive Alley in his arms. There were people all around the waiting room; some injured, some sick and some just waiting. A nurse talking to a man with a cloth held over his eye turned to look at him and gave him a quizzical look. He turned away from her before she could come to him and bounded over to the desk. The plump black-haired nurse looked up and an expression of horror crossed her face upon seeing Alley. She yelled for a doctor and another nurse and soon a man took Alley from John and put her on a stretcher. She was wheeled through some doors and John wasn't allowed to follow. The desk nurse grabbed his shoulder and led him to a chair. He sat, still a bit in shock over what had happened to Alley. His hands were stained with her blood and it was hard for him to look at them. It took him a few moments to realize that the plump nurse was speaking to him Her voice was soft and kind and her smile was warm.

"What happened, love?"

John took a deep breath and looked at the nurse. "She was climbing a tree and she….fell."

"Climbing a tree?" the nurse exclaimed. "Young ladies shouldn't be climbing trees!"

John snorted, thinking about how Alley would react to being called a young lady. "She isn't a normal girl," he said, a soft smile on his lips. "And it was an accident. She slipped and fell."

"Okay," the nurse said, nodding. "Can you give me the number of someone in her family?"

John stiffened at the thought of Royce but nodded. He felt a sudden stab of fear then and he turned to the nurse. "Is she going to be all right?" he asked in a quiet voice.

The nurse smiled but didn't answer. Instead, she said, "Why don't you go home and clean up, love? It will be a while yet."

John nodded and watched as the nurse went to call Royce. He remained in the hard, plastic seat for a few more minutes before finally leaving the hospital. He thought for a moment of going to Cassidy's house and telling her but he knew Alley wouldn't want the commotion. Sighing, he headed towards home. He couldn't help it—he kept seeing Alley fall over and over again and he couldn't help but feel that somehow it was his fault. A horrible thought caused a cold chill to slither down his back and make him feel sick to his stomach. What if Alley wasn't okay? What if she was….dead? _No, _he told himself. He wasn't going to start thinking bad thoughts that would only cause him pain in the end. He needed to stay positive. Alley was going to be okay—she was always okay. Wasn't she?

John was going home but he wasn't going to stay long. He was only going to get cleaned up and then rush straight back to the hospital. He wanted to avoid seeing Royce but he wanted to be at her side. He wouldn't feel right again until Alley was back to her normal self. If something happened to her, he didn't know what he would do.

...

George told himself that he was going to go to Cecilia's. He told himself that the was going to march right up to her, tell her that she was a little bitch for spreading rumors about her sister, and then ask her why she had taken his words and then used them in the wrong way. He told himself these things, practically convinced himself, but if there was one thing about George that always rang true, it was this: he didn't like to say things that didn't necessarily need to be said.

Which was why instead of landing at the Farrell's front door, his feet took him to the hospital.

George had a few siblings, and since the Harrisons were a rambunctious sort, there was always a few visits to the hospital each year. Currently, his brother Peter was getting his tonsils out. It wasn't that Peter and George were especially close—neither in age or emotionally—but it wasn't like there was a whole lot of other options for how to spend the day.

He walked through the revolving doors, breathing in a cool, fresh scent. After the lobby, the hallways would start to smell like old people and rubber gloves, but he liked that feeling you get when you first walk in; serenity.

George didn't need to be told; he immediately went forward and received a guest past. He walked up the stairs slowly, wondering how Peter would react when he saw him. He'd probably chuck his ice cream bowl at his head, George figured, since he hadn't come to see him yet.

As he walked down the hall, George thought over the past few weeks. He had been spending quite a bit of time at the Farrell household—he had even gone INSIDE a couple times—since Cecilia liked him now and Cass was lonely. Cass talked to him for hours and hours, always about something trivial and not very important. But George always listened, and that's why she kept talking.

They'd become quite good friends…something Cecilia wasn't too fond of despite George's constant insisting that they were just friends, and Cecilia was the only girl for him.

As George thought about this, he happened to glance into private room that one of his brothers had once occupied. Inside was as small girl, her thick black hair strewn across her pillow and a pair of large framed glasses sitting on the bedside table next to her. She looked unresponsive; she had a large, ominous tube going into her arm that made George uneasy.

"Alley," he breathed, taking a step into her room. What had happened to her? How long had she been here? He tried to remember the last time had seen her, but he couldn't remember anything recent.

Scratch that, he had seen her today at lunch. She had watched Cassidy get chased out of the lunchroom, her face a blank stone. George remembered feeling a lot contempt for the three of them—John, Paul, and Alley. Why hadn't they done anything? Why hadn't he?

Wordlessly, he sat down next to her, gazing at her smooth olive skin. She had baby cuts all over her face, plus a heavy cast on her left arm. She was laying at a strange angle; almost as if the nurse had pillows under her back. Why was that?

"Alley?" he repeated softly, this time to her. That's stupid, he immediately thought to himself, she obviously can't hear you!

He stared down at her again, reaching his hand over the cool metal edge of the bed and removing a piece of hair from her eyes. "There," he muttered, bringing his hand back to his lap. "Now I can see you."

It struck him as odd that he hadn't talked to Alley in ages, and yet he was here whispering to her unconscious body. What the hell? Wasn't he supposed to be visiting Peter? For some reason, he felt the need to explain himself to Alley, even though it was pretty obvious that she didn't know nor care that he was there.

"I came to visit my brother, Peter. He just got his tonsils out, and I supposed he'll be expecting me."

Alley said nothing.

George leaned in, resting his chin on the metal bar that held her in bed. "Do you want to know a secret?"

He took her silence as a yes.

"I told Cecilia about Cassidy and Paul. I don't know why I did it. Actually," he amended, "I DO know why I did it. I can't explain why I like Cecilia so much…she's beautiful, ya know."

He waited for her to say something, for her to pop out of this state that she was in. But still, Alley just laid there.

"I feel so bad. Did you see Cassidy's face? Marilyn Bent is one evil…I don't even wanna think about it." He leaned closer to Alley, watching as her chest moved up and down ever so slightly, the only sign that she was alive. "You wanna know another secret?" he practically whispered.

It wasn't like George was stupid. He KNEW that a normal person would have given up and walked away a long time ago. But there was something that kept him rooted there, right next to this girl's bed.

He took a deep breath. "I would give up on Cecilia if it wasn't for Paul."

Was the look of confusion the flickered across Alley's face imagined, or did that really happen? George couldn't be sure; his heart was already beating fast, his head turning every few seconds to make sure someone wasn't listening to him.

"See, Paul has had a lot of girlfriends. And I…" He smiled sheepishly. "I really liked Cecilia. It was a long time ago, before I knew her OR Cass, and I saw her walking into school. I pointed her out to Paul…and he told me to go for it. But see, she's out of my league. Always has been." George stopped speaking, watching Alley. Was she…mumbling to herself? That was impossible; people that were deeply unconscious had no idea what was going on. They didn't mumble to themselves.

George rubbed his eyes roughly.

"It was about five months ago when I realized that Cecilia wasn't that great. She's pretty and smart and popular, sure, but other than that…what does she have? Vanity? That's not exactly an attractive feature."

Any sign that Alley was becoming responsive had disappeared. Her face was completely blank now. George didn't mind; this was how Alley usually looked. He leaned in even closer, his breath now blowing a few wisps of hair out of her face.

"You think I don't listen to you, to Cass? Paul is saying the same things now." He let a bitter, sarcastic smile slip onto his face. "But sweet, mild-tempered George Harrison always follows through. And Paul told me to get her, so God knows that I will."

Without warning, George stood up. He felt ridiculous, spilling his guts to a girl that was trapped inside her own mind at the moment. Something held him back, however. Some part of the story he wanted her to know, whether she would remember or not.

"I meant what I said. I WOULD give up on Cecilia if it wasn't for Paul. Maybe I would go for Cassidy if he wasn't around…" He let his voice trail off, shaking his head slowly. "Maybe someone would love me back. Finally."

The smile that he had been holding so carefully faded away, and he found himself staring at Alley. She looked so peaceful, as if her mind was at ease for once. She seemed serene, her face smooth and clear of the frown-wrinkles that usually occupied it. However, she had deep circles under her eyes from wearing her glasses.

George took a step toward her, running his finger under those dark marks. Caught up in the moment, he leaned forward, placing a light kiss on her forehead.

What if she died?

The thought came suddenly, almost startlingly fast, and he found a tear seeping from his eye and tracing down the edge of his nose. It fell slowly, as if in slow-motion, and splashed gently into the edge of her soft, dark hair. He brought his lips to her ear.

"Come back. Because if it was her…she wouldn't leave you."

And then George left, wandering down the hall in search of his brother. For the first time in a long time, he felt good. Like HE mattered in the world. Like someone had listened.

…

Paul sat in front of his house, tuning his guitar swiftly. Something was on his mind, however, and he kept messing up. Every time he plucked at a string, the vibration had the same tune. Every time he strummed down, the melody was an out-of-whack repeated of the vibrations. Slut. Slut. Slut. He stopped trying to wrap his mind around the strings, instead clamping his hand over them and closing his eyes until he'd blocked everything out. It was his fault. All his fault.

John was barely paying attention to his guitar let alone to Paul and his internal struggles. His mind, not usually so one-track or at least so badly one-track, was on Alley and Alley only. Inside, he felt swirling waves of guilt and self-anger mixed with worry; all directed and centering around Alley. Why the hell was he so stupid? If he cared, if he had any semblance of a human heart beating in his chest then he wouldn't have let Alley climb the tree and she would be safe and not in the hospital possibly dying. He put his guitar next to him, too disgusted with himself to continue playing.

Paul looked up at the sound of wood on concrete, his frown deep. "Listen...we have to finish the song." He leaned back on his elbows, not feeling much like following through with his words. "It's been weeks now."

John shrugged, his dark eyes focusing on the air in front of him. "I don't feel like finishin' a bloody song," he said simply, giving his guitar a little kick for emphasis. He didn't kick hard enough to hurt it, just a nudge really and enough to get his point across.

Paul winced at the scratching sound that the guitar made against his front stoop. "Aye, I know what you mean." He sighed, letting his head fall back. "I heard about Alley," he muttered, staring up at the dark, gloomy grey sky. "She'll be okay. I know it."

Paul winced at the scratching sound that the guitar made against his front stoop. "Aye, I know what you mean." He sighed, letting his head fall back. "I heard about Alley," he muttered, staring up at the dark, gloomy grey sky. "She'll be okay. I know it."

Paul didn't respond. No, he didn't see her. But that wasn't really the point. He was just saying that to make John feel better, to push a little bit of reassurance into both of their heads. "We're friends now, me and Alley are. I'm allowed to worry about her just as much as you are." He made sure his tone was soft, not meaning to upset John and be misunderstood. That would be the LAST thing they needed.

John nodded, shrugging but saying nothing. Sometimes he felt like he didn't even have the energy to move or even to speak especially when his mind was racing with thoughts and his heart with feelings. He was too much into his own world to care about anything else. Alley couldn't die she just- couldn't.

As if reading his mind, Paul repeated what he had said earlier. "She'll be fine. I can feel it." Out of the blue, he wondered where his friend George was. Hadn't George asked to be in the band? Hadn't Paul promised him a LONG time ago that he would talk to John? But now was obviously not the best time. Yet, the thought of the little guy nagged in the back of his head, insistent. Why did he have the feeling something had changed with him? "She'll be fine." It had become a mantra. She'll be fine, she'll be fine, fucking Jesus Christ, she'll be fine.

"I guess we'll bloody well see," was John's reply. His voice was monotone and lacked his normal snark and sarcasm. He wasn't, understandably, in the mood for any stupid small talk. His mind and his anxiety were focused on one thing and until everything worked out-as Paul so adamantly said it would- he wouldn't be able to do much else. He looked over at Paul, really looking at him for the first time since he had arrived. There were lines of worry etched in his face and his eyes were slightly darkened. John knew what his best friend was thinking of or rather _who_ he was thinking of. Ever since the cries of _"slut"_ were uttered at school, directed at Cass of course, Paul had turned somewhat sullen. He, no doubt, felt as if he was to blame for Cass' crisis. John didn't know who to feel sorrier for- Paul or himself.

"Life is shit," Paul muttered, sitting up and placing his guitar back in his lap. He tried once against to get a nice sound out of it, but the instrument was resilient. It seemed determined in the fact that it would not tune. He gave it a frustrated slap, ignoring John's eyes which were firmly planted on the side of his head. "Fuck!" he swore, his large, sleepy hazel eyes narrowing in disgust at himself. "Why can't I do this?"

"Because," John said, glancing quickly at his own guitar before turning his gaze back to Paul. He shook his head at him, closing his eyes as he did so. He promptly opened them again and tried to suppress his shudder from his friend. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Alley falling from the tree, that helpless, blank look on her face. "Because," he repeated again, "our bloody minds aren't in it."

"I know where my mind is," Paul muttered darkly, clenching his jaw and shaking his head slowly. _Slut. Slut. Slut._ "I've ruined her life." He said this barely audibly, half hoping that John hadn't heard him.

John heard him. Seriously he said, "It takes two people, you know that Paulie? Unless you fuckin' raped her then it's safe to assume you both agreed to it."

"Well obviously they don't fucking care about me, because-" He stopped himself. What he was GOING to say was 'because I'm more of a slut than her', but he refused to say it. It reminded him of Alley, of how she called him a mock-John. That's not who he wanted to be, and that's never who he intended to be. "Whatever, I don't wanna talk about it." And then he tried to wrap his mind around his music, to escape from the hole he had dug himself so deeply.

John nodded sharply, grimacing as if he knew exactly what Paul was going to say. How many times had Paul got on him about how many girls he slept with and what a... man-whore he was. He was aware of what he was like and its not like he didn't care just that he didn't know what other way to live. But he didn't feel like pushing Paul to answer so instead he just shrugged again and picked up his guitar, laying it across his lap. He stared at it expectantly as if he expected it to start playing itself.

Out of nowhere, Paul stood up. "I think I'm going to sleep." The sun was still up, however, and it was only slightly hinting at going down. "I'm a bit tired. Long day, you know?"

John nodded, standing up slowly and holding his guitar limply at his side. "I-I get ya, mate." He looked around, his eyes adjusting to the sudden burst of light from the clouds. "I'll be... around. I'll see you later." With a sigh, as if it pained him to walk, he made his way down the front walk of the McCartney house and turned onto the sidewalk, not bothering to look up as he walked.

Paul bit his lip, watching as his best friend walked away. He should have been more sympathetic. He should have offered to have him come inside, maybe have a beer with him or something. After all, his girlfriend-sorry, his...whatever the hell you'd call Alley-had just been in mortal peril. Maybe Alley was right...maybe Paul WAS turning into a cold, man-whoric asshole.

...

It was a weird sense of falling-no, floating-that Alley felt right then. It felt like it had been going on for hours or maybe even days. The last thing she remembered doing was climbing the tree with John and then—and then—

She couldn't remember.

And now she was floating endlessly, like Alice when she fell down the rabbit hole. Except in Alley's case, there were no objects like mirrors and chairs and all that crazy shit floating around with her. She was alone in a seemingly black hole and she wasn't even sure how long she'd been there. But then suddenly up ahead there was a faint yellow light. Once it caught her attention, she was no longer floating nicely; in fact she was pulled towards the light with alarming speed. There was no use in struggling and when she was just about to be completely taken over by the light, she closed her eyes, expecting something unpleasant happening next.

"Hey!"

Alley's eyes snapped open and she was shocked to find herself standing in a strange-looking room. It was basically all white and pretty run-down and not a place she had ever seen before. She turned to find the source of the mystery voice; a boy not much older than her, leaning against the barren wall with a snarky smirk on his handsome face. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt and a weathered brown leather jacket. His hair, jet black and long was swept back into a ducktail and his eyes shined brightly; a brilliant blue. His accent told her that he was from Liverpool also. But—she had never seen him before in her life. And yet, why was she here with him—wherever she was...

He seemed to hear her thoughts.

"You're dreaming."

She started to speak but she quickly realized that her voice didn't work. She couldn't utter a single syllable. After trying a few times and failing, she sighed with exasperation and looked to this strange boy for help. He grinned and even chuckled a bit at her which made her kind of pissed off. She glared at him until he finally answered her.

"You can't speak," he said in a matter of fact tone. She glared more now and looked about ready to smack him.

_No shit, Sherlock. _(She had said this in her head).

But he had heard her and laughed. "Touchy?" he asked, crossing his arms.

She wasn't about to spare any time for small talk. She was confused and she wanted to know what the hell she was doing here with this strange boy. _Well, whoever you are, what the hell is going on?_

He chuckled again. "You don't remember?"

_Remember what? Would I ask what was going on if I knew what was going on? _She knew if she could say this out loud, she would be shouting. But all she could do was speak in her head and motion with her hands. It was extremely tiring.

"Look around," he said, his expression turning somewhat serious. "Don't you know where we are?"

Alley turned away from him, letting her eyes fully travel around the room. It was white and pretty much bare except for a bed, a night table and a few machines. It then dawned on her like a sack of hammers. It was a hospital and there was a girl lying in the bed, asleep. She had her back turned and Alley couldn't see past the girl's dark hair. Upon leaning over to peer at the girl's face, she received the shock of a lifetime. It was her—lying in the hospital bed. When she reeled back and looked back to the boy, she saw that he had an expression of sympathy on his face.

"Remember," he said simply. It wasn't a question but instead a command. Right as he said it, her mind began reeling and she saw everything as if it was happening right before her eyes.

Alley saw herself and John at the tree. She had just reached the top and he was watching her from the bottom with a look of apprehension on his face. Then suddenly, it was if everything changed. The wind picked up and the sky seemed to turn darker as she watched herself loose her balance and fall, slowly, from the tree. When she saw herself hit the ground with a resounding thud, she looked away and was suddenly back in the hospital room, staring at her own unconscious body. She spun around and headed straight for the boy and stared into his eyes.

_I'm dead, aren't I? That's why I'm seeing you. You're the angel of death or something like that? Come to take me away?_

He looked half-amused at her outburst. "My name is Seth."

_Oh great(!) The angel of death is called Seth!_

"Fuck!" Seth swore, losing his cool for a split second. He took a breath and shook his head, recomposing himself. He looked back at her with a somewhat unreadable expression on his face. "You aren't dead! But you could be! I'm here to let you choose."

Alley felt her heart stop completely for a few seconds. _What? What the fuck are you talking about?_

"You can choose," Seth said. "You get to choose right now if you live or die."

_Yeah right. Next you're gonna tell me there's a fuckin' Santa Claus and that the Easter Bunny is your brother!_

Seth wasn't fazed. Instead, he just stared ahead and spoke as if she wasn't there. "The same thing happened to me," Seth began, his tone sort of whispery. "I was in this same hospital and I was given the same choice and—"

_You chose to die? _If it had been out loud, she would have sounded incredulous.

Seth nodded. "I didn't have much to live for. Trust me. So after I chose to die, I was given this job. Now, you have to choose."

_This is all so fucking insane! Why do I get to choose? _Seth just shrugged and Alley sighed, sitting at the edge of the bed and putting her head in her hands. She looked up at him again. _Why can't I talk? Out-loud, anyway?_

"You're between life and death," he said hastily. "You aren't really dead and you aren't really alive. Hence the choosing part."

_That's...not comforting._

"You don't have much time," Seth warned, ignoring her and looking around as if he expected someone to come into the room. "You better decide and decide fast!"

_Oh well, no pressure! _She sighed again and shook her head, taking a breath. She would have to decide whether or not she wanted to go on living. Her life was literally in her own hands. She looked up at the clock and watched as the hands ticked by the seconds.

What would she decide?

...

"So. How was school today, girls?" Mrs. Farrell chirped.

Cass stared down into her potatoes, her face still bright red from the incident today at lunch. She clenched her jaw, afraid that if she relaxed she would have another freak out attack. She wouldn't let that happen again. Not in front of Cecilia, at least.

"Great," Cecilia replied, pretending that she couldn't feel the rays of hate that her older sister was emanating. "I think a boy is gonna ask me out!"

The girls' mother beamed. "Oh, Cel, that's great! What's his name?"

Cecilia turned her gaze to right to Cassidy, who was still intently focused on her potatoes. She forced her lips into a hard smirk, despising the way her sister didn't fight back. Not at all. It was as though she had been drained of life, of any reason to defend her honor.

"Paul. Paul McCartney."

Cass's heart skipped a beat. That evil little bitch! He wouldn't, he couldn't. Asking out her SISTER? That was taking this whole thing just a step too far. However, Cassidy tried to wrangle in her surprise, instead just raising her eyebrows coolly. "Oh, really? Ask you out?"

"Yes," Cecilia shot back.

"That's funny, because ever since ME I heard he doesn't go out with girls. He just mindlessly fucks them." Cassidy ignored her mam's gasp of horror, which she knew was both because Cass had just said 'mindlessly fucks' and because Cecilia was planning on doing something with a boy of that caliber. It was, of course, unheard of in the Farrell household. "But that's fine with you, isn't? The whole school knows you're not a virgin, anyways."

Ouch, was written all over Cecilia's face. "Yeah, well—"

"GIRLS!" Mam interrupted. Her angry face quickly faded away, and the usual thin smile reappeared. "Cassidy, why would you say such things about your sister?"

Cass turned and looked at her mother, bitter disbelief shining from her eyes. "Seriously, Mam? Seriously? You don't even KNOW what that little whore put me through today. She deserves this, and more." She turned to glower at her sister menacingly. "And believe me, she'll get more."

Cecilia's mouth opened to retort something equally nasty, but she fell short. She KNEW this was a bad idea from the start, so why had she gone through with it? Even through all the hate she felt for Cass, she was still her sister.

Yet there was just ONE thing she still had on her side…

"Maybe," she sniffed loudly, "I would be nicer to you if you would stop trying to steal my boyfriend!"

Cass rolled her eyes heavily, having no idea what Cecilia was talking about. Their mother, however, was ten times more sympathetic to the younger girl. "Oh, sweetie! I didn't even know you had a young gentleman!"

Her words made Cassidy sick.

"Georgie," Cecilia hissed, registering the look on her sister's face with a sickening smile, "is probably the love of my life. I didn't realize it until a short while when—" She broke off to wipe an imaginary tear from her face. "When Cassidy tried to steal him from me!"

Before Mam could utter a word, Cassidy had thrown her fork down, and she was now standing over the table. She had an enraged, mad look on her face. "No," she hissed, then raised her voice. "NO. I'm sorry, Cecilia, but you DON'T get to say whatever you want, DO whatever you want, just because you fucking want it! George is a NICE boy, and I'm sick and fucking tired of seeing you USE him!"

Her chest heaved up and down, and both mother and daughter were seemingly shocked by her outburst. But damn, did it feel good.

"Now, Cass, that's no way to talk to your sister—"

"Me? Use George? Please." Cecilia shook her head, still participating in the act she was putting up for her mother. "More like Paul use you for sex. Are you still hung up on that?"

Cassidy's arms fell limply to her sides. She didn't even know what to say. Did Cecilia and Paul really talk? Were they friends or something? Did Paul SERIOUSLY use Cassidy? Was that whole wanting them to be together thing just an act?

She didn't know what to say. She COULD tell her mother about the Cass Is A Slut thing (the chants of which were still ringing in her ears) or she could just simply walk away. Leave this house. Walk to Alley's, forgive and forget, and help battle Royce with her. The second option seemed more and more lovely to her, but her last escape was still fresh in her mind. She come back, hadn't she? And why leave again, if she KNEW that she was just going to turn around and be right back on the Farrell's front stoop?

No, she couldn't do any of these options. Instead, she choose a third choice. Something that she didn't think was there until just that very second, when a sudden realization came upon her.

Cassidy turned to her mother. "Where's Da?"

Mrs. Farrell's mother hardened into a straight line. Cass could tell that she wanted to say something, yet she was trying to force herself to smile. The struggle was quite ugly, to be honest.

"Da was...not feeling well. So I drove him to the hospital." She emitted a thin laugh. "That man and his hypochondriac ways."

For once (and at a very odd time) Cecilia and Cassidy were united. They exchange a glace with each other, both not believing their ears. They knew their mother put up a large façade, but this was CERTAINLY not something to make light of.

"Mam…you should have told us," Cecilia said quietly.

"Told us? We should be at that hospital now!" Cass stood up once again, banging her fist on the table and sending her silverware flying. Her mother cast her a disdainful look. "We should be at his fucking bedside! What the HELL is that matter with you?"

"You're overreacting," she responded lightly. "Ian will be home by morning."

"I hope," Cassidy growled, a horrible feeling erupting in the pit of her stomach, "that he won't, JUST because you said that."

Mrs. Farrell's jaw dropped, as did Cecilia's. "That's your father! You take it back, young lady."

"Young lady?" Cass repeated with a sneer, backing away from the precious dinner table. It seemed like all her hate had stemmed from that table, and she felt immense amounts of relief just from stepping away. "Fuck no. I think I stopped being a 'young lady' right around the time I started being a slut. Isn't that right, Cecilia?"

Cass couldn't take the look on Cecilia's face; it was a mixture of hate and guilt, sorrow and joy. It was as though she didn't know what to feel. She also couldn't take the fact that their mother had just thrown her comment away, not taking it seriously. Cassidy could just about read her mother's mind: she must be lying, my perfect Cecilia would NEVER say that.

As though she were in a movie, Cassidy let out a frustrated, high pitched scream and sent her hand flying forward. It snagged a framed photo, which came crashing to the ground with the ear-ringing sound of glass hitting hard wood flooring. Without anther word, Cass turned on her heel, storming out of the dining room and the perfect family of women that sat in it.

The last thing she saw was the photo, half-hidden behind cracked glass. It lay on the ground, staring innocently up at her. There were four faces; a man with dark auburn hair, a freckled face, and glasses that took up most of his nose. There was a beautiful woman, with curly blonde hair and blue eyes that glittered. The woman had her hand on a little girl's shoulder. The girl also had that perfect hair, and those shimmering eyes. Yet there was something in her hollow smile, something in her too-thin lips, that suggested her beauty wasn't natural. She was fake.

The last person in the picture was a girl who looked to have just entered her teenage years. She shared the texture of hair of her mother and sister, yet hers was somewhat wilder and the curls were more defined. She had the hair of her father (so auburn that it was neither brown nor red) and also the freckled face. Her eyes were deeper than her mother and sister's, more a sapphire than a ocean, and her full lips were parted in an almost sarcastic way. She didn't belong with this family, no matter how much she looked the part. Maybe it was in the way she stood slightly to left of them all that you could tell, or maybe it was in the way that none of them touched her to hold her in place; they just let her be.

Or maybe it was her eyes, those narrow sapphires, that spoke of betrayal, distrust, discomfort. Yes, it was fairly obvious upon first glance that she hated them all, hated them with every last ounce of her being.

And she didn't belong.

...

Some time had passed—Alley wasn't sure how long but she was still struggling with the decision. It would surely sound crazy to any other person that this young girl of 17 was contemplating death. And not in a suicidal way, not really. She wasn't physically harming herself in anyway. She was just making a decision of whether she wanted to live or die. That was the same thing, she had realized. But she couldn't help her brain from weighing the pros and cons of each decision.

First she thought what would happen if she chose to die. She wouldn't ever feel any pain again because she wouldn't have to live with Royce and his constant mistreatment of her. She could stay young, healthy and pretty forever. She would be free of the painful things that came with being human. But then, her brain asked, what do you have to live for? And she couldn't stop the answers from coming forward at an alarming rate. She had friends—Cass, even if they weren't talking now, Alley still cared a great deal about her. And then there were her friends—Paul and even George and then—John. She couldn't possibly need him.

Pleadingly, she looked to Seth who was staring out the window. _You gotta help me. I don't know what to do! _She felt desperate, like tearing out her hair and screaming or something drastic like that. _I can't decide!_

Seth didn't say anything; he just nodded slightly toward the door. Alley followed his gaze and jumped up when she saw Cass walk through the door. She couldn't believe her eyes and she looked back at Seth, flustered at not being able to call out to her best friend. But it became clear to her soon enough that Cass wasn't really there. It was something Alley was seeing—something Alley was meant to see. So she sat down in the chair on the other side of her unconscious body and watched.

Cass walked over to Alley's bedside and almost immediately, the tears fell from her eyes. She looked absolutely devastated seeing her best friend lying in a hospital bed. Alley felt a tug in her heart when she saw this and had to force herself to hold in her emotions. Cass grabbed her hand and leaned over, looking down into her face. For a few seconds, Alley didn't think Cass could speak but when her shaky voice broke the eerie silence, Alley felt a chill go through her.

"Alley," she said. "Can you hear me?" She half-chuckled then, shaking her head. "Of course you can't. But maybe—on some level, you can. I guess all you can do is listen." She became choked up and new tears spilled from her eyes. "You better be all right. You have to be all right, Alley. I can't live without you! I need you!"

Alley closed her eyes, gripping the wooden arms of the chair so hard her knuckles turned white. Tears were threatening to spill over and she was shaking with the effort of keeping them in. When she opened her eyes again after a few minutes, Cass wasn't there anymore. Instead, in her place, was Paul. He was in the same position as Cass was, holding her hand and looking down at her. He looked horribly sad and Alley wanted to hug him.

"Hey," he said; his voice quiet. Paul was also one to try to restrain emotion. It came from the whole, up keeping the manly image she had guessed. "Don't die on us, Alley! John and Cassidy are going to kill each other if you die. At your funeral, of course. I can't deal with TWO bloody messes. Besides, Cass still hates us. You can't leave me with Cass still hatin' us, Alley! If you leave, everything will fall apart!"

Alley took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes once more. It was beginning to get too much for her to take. But she felt Seth`s eyes on her and she opened her eyes reluctantly. And when she looked this time, her heart stopped. John stood where Paul was seconds before, a stony expression on his face; his mask of no emotion. But after looking down at her and gently brushing hair away from her face, the mask crumbled slightly. Alley swore she saw his eyes shine with tears.

_I don`t think I wanna see this. _

Seth put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to stay seated. Having nowhere to go, she looked ahead and watched as John spoke to her. With every word, she felt a small stab of pain in her heart. He was struggling to keep his voice steady but Alley could see how hurt he was. He was squeezing her hand so hard that she imagined she felt it. In a low, whispery voice, he said,

"If you die, I die. I am not living my life without you in it. I don't care what happens or what we are to each other. You _have _to live. As long as you don't exist in this world, I can't either. You die-I die."

Alley watched him stare down at her with such a pained expression that she couldn't hold it back any longer. As he began to fade away into nothing, she felt the tears escape her eyes and pour down her face at the speed of a rushing waterfall. She got up and stood at the edge of the bed, with her back to her body and buried her face into her hand. She didn't want anyone—or in this case, Seth—to see her cry. But he didn't seem to mind. He came towards from the window and stood in front of her.

"Did you make your decision?"

_I can't die. I know I can't. I'd be leaving too much behind._

"I'm glad you came to that conclusion," he said with a hint of a smile on his face.

Alley lowered her hands from her face, wiping her eyes with her arm. _Did you know all along what I would choose? _

"Let's just say I was hoping."

_Why? _

Seth shook his head, looking suddenly spooked. "I can't tell you. Let's just say, people are going to need you."

_Wait—what? Who's gonna need me help? _

"I can't!"

_Seth! Plea—_

Alley was cut off when he suddenly pushed her roughly with both hands and she went sailing backwards onto the bed. She didn't have time to react and when she landed on the bed, everything went black. Then suddenly, she sat upright, gasping for breath. She looked around but Seth was gone.

"Fuck me!"

She gasped again when she heard the sound of her own voice. Looking down at herself, she saw that she was wearing a blue hospital gown and that she had tube in her arm. With a great rush of joy she realized that she was awake and alive! She stopped for a moment, thinking. Was it really a dream? Or did everything that she saw actually happen? She shook her head, remembering what Seth said. People were going to need her help. She would just have to wait until later to decide if what she saw was real or just a dream spawned from her fucked up imagination. Eagerly, she pressed the button the call for the nurse. She had to get of the hospital. It was weird but she felt something deep inside her.

Something was about to happen.

...

At first, John didn't hear his name being frantically called; screamed through the open space. The voice was filled which such desperation- such a need to find him. He didn't answer right away. He wanted to spend some time alone and this person- whoever was calling him—was disturbing his moment of peace and quiet. He couldn't stop thinking about Alley and what had happened to her; right by the very tree he was sitting under. And even with the knowledge that she would be just fine when she awoke, he still felt the horrible worry and guilt. He wanted the person calling him to disappear. But then he heard something in the voice and he felt a strange pull in his heart. He stood up from where he was hidden by some trees and made his presence known.

"John!"

Upon seeing him, Margaret Winter—the owner of the voice—ran towards him quickly. He was stunned to see the tall, blonde girl run toward him. She lived across the street from his Aunt Mimi and he had slept with her a few times a year or two ago. But they never really spoke after that anyway. There was terror and fear on her face and John suddenly felt cold dread wash over him.

"John!" she said when they reached each other in the middle of the field.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice laced thickly with unease.

"My mother sent me-" she began but then immediately stopped. She was struggling for the right words to say. "John- I'm sorry..."

Sorry? Why would she be sorry? John closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the scent of the field around him. Flowers were starting to bloom all around and he could smell their sweet scent. When he opened his eyes, the feeling of dread seemed to increase and he couldn't get himself to speak at first. The world around him was beginning to tilt and sway. There was something terribly wrong- he could feel it in his bones. Was it Alley? Was something wrong with her? No, he quickly thought. It couldn't be here. But who was it?

"What the fuck is goin' on here?" John asked, forcefully grabbing Margaret by the shoulders when she didn't answer fast enough. She let out a frightened squeal.

"John-it's- your mother- she's-"

John didn't give her a chance to finish. He took off running- desperately needing to get there. Margaret didn't finish her sentence but his heart told him all he needed to know.

...

**Addie AN: So...wow. Intense.**

**Catie AN: Yup. I think these chapters just get more dramatic as they go along.**

**Addie AN: You said it. I don't think we're capable of writing straight fluff.**

**Catie AN: I don't think we've EVER had fluff. But now, dear readers, I believe it's time for you to do a little something we call...**

**Addie AN: REVIEW!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Addie AN: Well...fuck. Sorry to be so blatant but...fuck. It's been so long! And first off, I want to say to you all, that is if we still have readers, that we are very sorry. Life got in the way as it sometimes does. But here we are, with our latest chapter! Don't worry, we will never give up this story! All I ask is that you read it... and like it. Remember, the review button is your friend.**

**Catie AN: I just don't even know what to say (a total first, trust me). Ummm...sorry? This is a chapter that we've really been planning for a long time, and we PROMISE it's filled with the usual drama...and then take that drama, and multiply it by like fifty gazillion. And then eat an Oreo. THAT IS HOW GREAT IT IS. Just trust me and read it.**

**Addie AN: Hell yeah! Okay but what are you still doing reading the ANs? Go read already, people!**

…

It was hours later. The sun had raised high in the sky, the birds had started chirping, and a fine layer of dew sat on the same grass that Paul and Cass did. Her breathing had long since slowed, and Paul had his arm wrapped tight around her, unable to move for fear of jostling her and waking her up. However, it was she who said the first word.

"Paul."

He looked down at her, the girl that he had spent so much time doing without. How could he have let her just ignore him like that? Why hadn't he done something more drastic? And why was the only thing that could bring them together a horrific tragedy?

"Yeah?" he responded softly, running his fingertips up and down her pale, nearly glowing arm.

Cassidy opened her eyes slowly, taking in the yard and Paul. Slowly, the tip of her tongue pecked out and moistened her full, deep red lips. She pulled away from Paul a little bit, straightening and then letting her weight fall back onto her palms, which were sturdily planted in the slick grass behind her.

"Thank you," she murmured finally, turning to look him full in the face. "I've—I've missed you."

The words were honey to Paul's ears. He allowed himself a gentle smile, then opened up his arms so that Cassidy could fall into them once more. Gingerly, he pressed his lips against her forehead, knowing this was previously chartered territory and not knowing if she would be okay with this. When she didn't protest, Paul leaned his forehead against hers and stared into her ocean blue eyes.

"I've missed you, too."

She reached her hand up, playing with a messy lock of hair that was hanging in Paul's sleepy eyes. "I wish today didn't have to happen." Her voice was dreamlike, soft, flimsy. As though she wasn't really there at the moment, instead off somewhere in her mind.

Paul caught her hand, bringing it down and resting it in her lap. "I know. I know exactly how you feel. But it does."

"I just want to stay right here, forever."

"But you can't."

"I know."

It was completely silent for a moment, and all Paul wanted to do was lean down and kiss her. But now was certainly not the time. She needed to go home, see her sister, make sure her mother was doing alright. Sure, it was nice holding her in his arms for the time being. But he knew that ultimately, she needed to be with her family.

"Cassidy," he mumbled, not wanting to say the words that were going to come out of his mouth next. "You need to go home."

Cass turned away from him, looking out over the yard and letting the sun shine fully on her freckled face. Her eyes were still puffy from the night of crying, and there were heavy purple bags under them. She took her time to answer him, swallowing roughly and running her fingers through the grass. "They're the last people I want to see."

Paul knew she was going to say something like this. But he also knew that she was going to have to get over that aversion she had to Cecilia and her mother, because it wasn't going to help anything. Paul knew better than anyone that in the upcoming months, Cassidy was going to need them.

Wordlessly, both of them stood up, each lost in their own thoughts and not looking at the other. Cass stood there for a moment, hesitating, then started off down the street. She didn't say goodbye, didn't look back. It even registered briefly to Paul that she was going the wrong direction.

Long after Cassidy rounded the corner and disappeared from Paul's view, the latter still stood there in his yard, feet planted firmly, staring after the girl that he had so much history with. His mother would be proud of the way he handled the situation, he thought to himself. He thought about her every day, and having Cass lose a parent, too, made him feel a whole lot closer to her. John, too. He couldn't believe that so much had happened in one day, and it was starting to get a little overwhelming. Life seemed too God damned unfair sometimes.

Finally, he turned around and headed for his house, his mind still clogged with thoughts of his mother and John's mother and Cassidy's father and death and life and just shit that he much preferred NOT to think about.

…

Alley was running down the street at full speed, her breath ragged and her legs aching tremendously. She lost track of how long she had been running and she didn't care. Not even the stares of people she ran by bothered her. Even the pain coursing through her body from her recent fall didn't bother her. She had one goal; she had to find him. Her mind kept going over the previous events as she ran and each time she thought about it, it made her run harder. Royce was crazy drunk and apparently he didn't care that she had just got out of the hospital because he beating on her again...

"_Leave me alone!" she screamed at Royce. She was lying on the floor and he was standing over her with an old cane in his hand. _

_Royce laughed evilly. "And why should I? What kind of parent would I be if I didn't use discipline?"_

"_You are not my fuckin' parent!" Alley growled angrily and kicked out at him. Royce threw the cane to the ground and grabbed her by the hair, lifting her from the ground. _

"_Do you still see that little fuck?" Royce asked. Alley could smell the alcohol on his breath and she nearly gagged. "What's his name- Lennon?"_

"_None of your goddamn business!" Alley spat and she was given a backhand across the face. She could already feel the bruise forming. "What does it matter to you?" she asked finally._

"_Well-" Royce said, an evil grin spreading on his face. "I would think you would want to be with your little boyfriend now."_

_Alley stared at him quizzically. She was starting to feel something weird in the pit of her stomach. What exactly was he getting at? When she asked him this, he just laughed._

"_It's all over the place now," Royce said—he was getting a laugh out of this. "His slut of a mother was hit by a car. She's dead."_

_Alley felt her throat tighten and she couldn't form a reply- Julia was...dead? How could this happen? Royce had to be playing a joke on her; a horrible, cruel joke. But there was something in his eyes that confirmed this to be true. Alley felt a rush of emotions over her at once and then a single thought stopped her cold._

_John._

_Frantically, she pulled herself out of Royce's grasp with strength she didn't even know she was capable of. Without a plan, she ran out of the door. She needed to find John._

...

Still running, she was beginning to lose hope of finding John. First she had gone to his house and a red-eyed Mimi told her that he wasn't there. He hadn't even come home yet. A quick pass by Julia's told her the same thing. Her boyfriend Bobby Dykins was a wreck and she got through to him enough for him to tell her that John had been there but then left. Feeling dejected by then, she tried a few places he liked to go- even Paul's house. He was as saddened and worried as she was. She looked near the school, some of the places he like to go off alone to but still no John. After checking the diner for a third and final time, she stopped. There was nowhere else to look. Well—there was Blackpool of course but she didn't want to go there alone.

Sad and angry, Alley finally decided to go back home. The pain in her body couldn't be ignored now and she decided she would grab Paul to help her look later if John still didn't turn up. She had to walk by the docks to get home. As she walked past the pretty much deserted docks, she happened to look up and her heart stopped. There, directly in her line of site, stood John. He was staring into the water with a strange expression on his face and a beer bottle clutched in his hand. She ran towards him and stopped a few feet away from him.

"John?" she asked tentatively, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. He didn't move. Again, she tried, "John?"

This time he spun around, glaring at her with cold, anger-filled eyes. There were always stories floating around about the famous Lennon temper but Alley had never seen anything like this before. There was pure, unadulterated rage in his eyes and he looked like he could kill someone without a second thought. Alley had the strangest urge to step back or to run away but she didn't move.

"John," she said slowly and carefully. "You should go home. Be with your aunt."

"I don't want to go home," he said quietly. He was staring at the half-empty beer bottle in his hand.

"You should be with her..."

"I DON'T WANT TO GO HOME!" he screamed loudly and hurled the beer bottle against the dock railing. It exploded into a million pieces, sending beer and glass shards everywhere. He was breathing hard and ragged and Alley was scared.

"Listen to me," Alley said softly, grabbing him by the arms so that he would have to look into her eyes. "You need to be with your aunt. She needs you right now and you need her."

"I'm supposed to go over for dinner," was his reply. It was as if he didn't hear her at all. "She told me to come so Mimi wouldn't have to cook."

"No, John," Alley said with a sad shake of her head. "You need to go home. Julia's gone."

His eyes went wide when Alley mentioned his mother's name. He put his hands on her shoulders and violently pushed her backwards, sending her sprawling onto the dock floor. The pain shot up and down her body and she for a second, she thought she might pass out. He looked down on her and for a horrifying moment, Alley thought he was going to hit her. But then he just took off running in the direction of Julia's house. Alley watched him go and she felt her heart break in two.

…

The flow of tears that had eventually dried in Paul's arms were threatening to break the dam again, and Cass walked with a purposeful lope down the sidewalk. Paul had told her to go home, to spend time with her family, to make sure her mother was doing alright. But Cassidy didn't want to see them at the moment. In fact, they were the last people on Earth whom she wanted to converse with. No, instead she found her feet taking her down another much-walked route, one that she took a lot with Alley and with Paul in the olden days. Before she really knew what she was doing, her finger had pushed a doorbell and an aging, stern looking woman was standing before her. The woman frowned.

"I'm sorry, I don't-"

"I'm a friend of his," Cass said quickly, knowing Mimi probably wouldn't recognize her. "Not GOOD friends, of course, but, er...I'm sorry. I don't really know what I'm doing here."

She turned around; ready to take off, when she felt an arm grasp her's. She turned slowly, taking more time to analyze the woman's face. Deep lines of sorrow were etched there, making her seem older than she probably was. Her eyes looked just about the same as Cassidy's, and her hair was sticking up every which way. Could they both possibly be devastated over the same thing? Maybe that's what Mimi was thinking when she uncharacteristically invited her in. "I'll just...wait for John in his room then," she choked, feeling overwhelminingly awkward. Mimi simply nodded, then disappeared down the hallway. As Cass climbed the stairs, she heard the unmistakable sound of a sob escape the kitchen doorframe.

John was sitting in his bedroom, back to the door, his legs hanging awkwardly from the chair he sat on. His eyes were looking at the window where the bright sunlight streamed in. But he was really staring blankly and his deep brown eyes really didn't see anything. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought he heard someone ring the doorbell. A few seconds after that, he heard the door creak open and the sounds of muffled conversation. He didn't move from his position, he didn't even strain his ears to listen for an indentifying factor of the voice at the door. Probably someone coming over with a casserole or a pie baked with good intentions for the grieving family.

Anger rose in his chest then as he thought of all the people who extended their condolences and wished him well. These were the people who, in everyday life, looked upon him with scorn and looked down on him like he was a peasant, no higher than the dirt-caked ground. They had the gall to say that they were sorry for his loss. They were sorry? THEY were sorry? How could these people possibly know him or his-mother, he felt his heart tighten when he saw the image of her in his mind- enough to say that they were sorry. He decided that he hated people then. He hated the world. He hated God. How could anyone want to take someone away from him? Someone as important as that. Someone had already taken his Uncle George away and now his mother. Who would be next? How many people would be taken away from him before he would be alone in the world? He wanted to know how long the powers that be were going to punish him for whatever he had done wrong. Most of all, he wanted to know when the pain would stop.

Cassidy stood in John's doorway, positive that he had not heard her enter the room. She bit her lip, shuffled her feet a little bit, and wiped away a single tear that escaped her swollen eyes. She took one step forward, forcing her mind to wake up her numb limbs. Two steps. Three. Four. And then she was standing directly behind John, having no idea what to say. She looked out the window that he, too, was staring out, and knew that he could see her. She saw his blank, deadened expression. The hollowness of his nearly black eyes. She lifted her hand unsurely, gently placing it on his shoulder. Cassidy didn't know what she was doing here, not having talked to John Lennon in weeks, and thought it out of her place to ask him what was wrong.

John was sure that he heard someone walk into his bedroom. He was nearly certain that he felt a hand gently gripping his shoulder. But his eyes couldn't focus, he couldn't see what was in front of him. He couldn't even blink if he wanted to. He was living in his own mind just then, seeing entirely different images than the room he was sitting in. He saw his mother, her red hair flying wildly as she danced, threw her head back and laughed, hugged him. He saw the day he had gone with her to Blackpool, her pleased expression when she first saw his band play. It seemed that before his very eyes-or at least what his eyes were seeing- the images began to shift and change into something more horrific; dark and twisted images like something out of a horror film. He saw a shiny black coffin being lowered into the ground and he struggled to remember where he had seen it before. He felt like he was in frozen state where he couldn't think, couldn't feel, couldn't...anything. And he didn't want to leave.

Cassidy cleared her throat, took a step away from him, and sat down on his bed. "John," she said quietly, not wanting to interrupt his state of peace but also...she didn't know. She felt like where she was the right place to be.

John was sure he heard something now. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned his head, blinked his eyes once and saw Cassidy come into view. She was sitting at the foot of his bed, staring at him, waiting for him to speak. John cocked his head to the side slightly and looked at her as if mentally trying to figure out why she was sitting there.

"My dad died," she offered blatantly. She didn't cry, she seemed unable, but she took the fact that John did scream at her for being in his house in stride and ran with it. "I didn't know...I couldn't...home isn't really an option right now. I don't know why I'm here though."

John squinted at her, trying to make sense of the words that were coming out of her mouth. They sounded muffled, like they were under water. Slowly, with another blink of his eyes he said, "What?" It was such a low whisper that he wasn't even sure if he had actually said it out loud.

"My dad had cancer. He died. Last night." It was strange how just two days ago, those words seemed like they should be said so far off in the future, and today they were fact, history, something that had already happened. How could she say them with so little feeling? She gave him an odd look. "What's..what happened? Your aunt was crying."

"Crying?" John asked as if he didn't understand the meaning of the word.

"Yeah..." Cassidy said slowly, standing up and carefully walking towards John. She stood in front of the guy she had sworn to hate, feeling her own self-pity wearing off a bit and wondering what the hell was wrong with him. "Did something happen?"

"I think..." John said, as the images of the coffin being lowered into the ground flashed through his mind once more. As he focused on the image, his vision suddenly began to clear. His mind brought up the image of a newly-made gravestone and the letters began to become clearer. He soon could read the letters like they were right in front of him.

**JULIA LENNON**

Suddenly, he blinked and he felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water onto him. He began to shake as his vision and his mind became clearer. He saw Cass standing before him with an expression mixed with worry, sadness and pain. All that she had said finally seemed to reach his ears. He looked up at her for a few seconds, then slowly to a crumpled piece of newspaper on his desk and then back to the floor.

Cassidy gave him a long, hard look before reaching around him and picking up the clipping. She smoothed it out, then held it in front of her face. Her lips began to mouth the words, her eyes widening and widening with every words. Finally, she just stopped reading and let her arm drop to her side, the newspaper bit falling to the ground. She stood there, staring down at John and trying to say something. Anything at all.

John was breathing slightly heavier now, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to adapt to his surroundings. Cassidy was standing before him, her own chest heaving slightly and her eyes filling with tears after the reading the article. John had memorized the article by now; he had been reading it over and over until his eyes became too blurry to see the words clearly anymore. He didn't know what to say to Cass so he just sat there lamely, staring behind her, choosing to focus his gaze on the cracked window pane behind her. Finally, as his way to break the silence, he numbly said, "She died."

For some reason, the simple statement coming out of John's mouth made it a thousand times worse than her reading the paper that said the same exact thing. She closed her eyes, still standing rather close to him but not having the energy to back off or move closer. Or touch him at all. "When's the funeral?"

"It's..." John could feel the-whatever it was-rising up in his chest and threatening to completely take him over. He tried to hold it in, to push it down and to make it go away. John Lennon never cried, at least not in front of someone else. He had to hold it in, he couldn't lose it all. Setting his jaw and closing his eyes he said simply and shortly, "Today."

"I'll come to yours if you come to mine," Cassidy responded without even thinking about the fact that they were talking about funerals. In normal circumstances, she would have laughed and said something about how much she disliked John, but things were different now. They had something in common.

Any other day, any other time, John would have smirked and shook his head amusedly at her. But right then, it was all he could do to meet her gaze. It was as if they were speaking without words. They understood each other, they both understood the pain that was threatening to crush them from within. With his eyes shut, he just nodded at her.

Without really thinking about what she was doing, Cassidy leaned forward, hugging John lightly and planting a feather-light kiss on his cheek, the way a pair of old friends might after they've gone through an immense load together. "Be strong," she whispered in his ear, and then moved to walk out the door. She turned back, studying his tortured face for a moment before saying, "But not too strong."

And then she was gone.

John nodded to himself as if she was still there and she could see him. But when he was sure that she was gone, he shut his eyes and let only one single tear escape from his eye.

…

Quietly, Alley made her way down the steps, careful not to step on the worn middles which often emitted loud creaks when she did. Royce was sleeping off yet another hangover in his room upstairs and Alley didn't want to risk waking him up. Royce explicitly told her not to go to the funerals. "They don't fucking need you there!" he had said. But she knew she had to go. But she didn't want to go alone. So she continued her quiet journey down the stairs, tip-toeing to the phone in the kitchen. Carefully, she picked it up off its cradle, listened for Royce's angry footsteps and dialed the number quickly when she didn't hear anything. She was tapping her foot impatiently on the floor as she waited for someone on the other line to pick up.

Too groggy to recognize the voice on the other line, Paul ran a hand over his face and through his hair, distinctly annoyed. "Listen, I don't know who would be calling at this time in the morning, but-"

"It's Alley," she said quickly in a hushed whisper, cutting him off. "I-uh...I ended up finding John. He was a wreck, Paul."

At this, Paul perked up a little bit. Shit. John. Paul felt guilty immediately, knowing that he should be with his best friend, comforting him. He knew exactly what it was like to lose a mother. A sudden thought occurred to him-did Alley know about Cassidy's dad? "I knew he would be. I would be there right now if...Alley, when was the last time you talked to Cass?"

"Uhh..."Alley shook her head, trying to remember. She and Cass were fighting, they hadn't spoken since she blurted out that she and Paul had kissed. "I haven't talked to her since Blackpool. But-why? What does Cass have to do with John?"

"Nothing," Paul said slowly. He closed his eyes, a wave of tiredness hitting him all over again. "She showed up at my house last night, crying her eyes out. It's bad, Al, it's really bad."

Alley went cold all over. Her mind spun with the possibilities of what could have happened to Cass. Her heart pounding, she forced herself to say the words clearly, "What happened?"

"It's her dad."

That was all she needed to hear to know the rest of the story. She began to violently shake, waves of cold regularly washing over her body. It became difficult to hold the phone and Alley had to brace herself against the counter to keep from sliding to the ground. She took a shuddering breath and slowly let it out. "He's dead." It was more a statement of fact than a question.

Paul didn't say anything; what really needed to be said? He could hear something different in Alley's tone, and he remembered her once saying that she had been close to Cassidy's dad. He was probably more of a father figure to her than Royce or her own father was.

"The funeral's tonight, and so is Julia's. It's gonna be..." He wasn't sure how to finish that sentence. Bad? That seemed like an understatement.

"Yeah," Alley said, swallowing down the growing lump in her throat. "It's gonna be."

"Okay. Well. Talking about it isn't going to make it much easier, at least not for us. So I'm gonna go take a nap. Meet me later...at Mr. Farrell's funeral?"

"Yeah, yeah," Alley said, nodding to herself and shutting her eyes. She tried to control her breathing and gripped the counter so tightly as she did that her knuckles turned white. It was a few seconds before she finally said, "Yeah. I'll...uh...see you there. Bye Paul."

Quickly, she hung up and let herself fall to the cold kitchen floor. She was desperately trying not to breakdown. She remained that way, breathing in and out, for an hour before she could finally move again.

Paul put the phone back on the cradle after the dial tone rang in his ear for about thirty seconds. As if in slow motion, he moved forward, everything in his kitchen seeming glittery and fake and all too clear in his eyes. He knew Alley was probably trying to hold herself together right now, and he himself was too worn out to feel any misery at all. Instead, he climbed in his bed, lay under the covers, and tried to block the rest of the misery of the world out. Sleep never came to him.

…

Cassidy was never a huge fan of pity. That was why when she showed up at the funeral parlor that evening, dressed in a slim fit black dress and curls on the loose, she completely avoided all her family. Cecilia stood by herself, removed from the rest of the family for once. Cassidy knew that most of the extended family couldn't really stand her, but she thought that tonight, at least, they would give a little. Comfort her. Cassidy knew that she herself couldn't do it, because she could hardly stand to look Cecilia in the face.

She wandered the hallways, scared to move into the main room, where her father lay bloodlessly white and unmoving. She didn't really know where to go, and was feeling the urge to completely bolt from the home itself.

That was until she happened to open up the door to a rather harmless looking closet.

There, underneath fancy coats and scarves and other outdoor accessories, was her mother, slumped against the wall with a bottle of brandy clutched in her hand. She was passed out, her head slightly angled up and her moth wide open. She emitted a loud snore just as Cassidy opened the door, pulling her booze into herself and dribbling a little bit down the front of her expensive black dress. There were also purple bags under her eyes, the same as Cass's.

For the first time ever, Cassidy felt a stab of pity for her mother. That was why she quietly closed the door to the closet, but not before wrapping a coat around Mam and kissing her forehead.

With renewed vigor, Cassidy strode down the hallway and back into the main room, where her family milled about and Cecilia still stood off to the side, glaring at everybody who dared to approach her. Not stopping for anyone, Cass walked all the way up to the casket, gazing down at her father's face under the bright, harsh lights. It was the first time she had seen him clearly in weeks, and what struck her immediately was how old he looked. His freckles seemed such a dull brown, more splotchy than dotted, and his skin was pasty and bright white. His full, dark red lips (the same as hers) were the lightest pink, turned up slightly at the corners as though he was just sleeping and having a fairly pleasant dream.

That was when Cass broke down all over again.

It was such a mess. Cecilia, isolating herself; Da, lying in front of her in a casket; Mam, passed out drunk in a closet, sleeping through the hardest moment of her life. And there was Cassidy, weeping for the entire world to see, all by herself.

Wait, no, not entirely by herself. She suddenly felt the comforting pressure of an arm wrapped around her shoulders, tears dropping into her unruly hair. She glanced up, seeing a dapper looking Paul, dressed smartly in a suit and tie. His large, hazel eyes were fixed on her father, and she could just make out tears escaping from the corners of his lids. Feeling her eyes on him, he looked down at her.

"It's gonna be okay, Cass." His lips made contact with her forehead, just as they had earlier that morning.

She shuddered, grateful for his support. She noted George's presence, too, right beside Paul. He must have called him and told him to come, strictly for moral support. George smiled weakly upon catching her gaze, and Cass felt a surprising amount of warmth spread through her body.

Alley stood outside the doorway to the small funeral parlor. From where she was, she could only see a few members of Cass' family, walking around, making small conversation, some crying quietly. She was afraid to go in and actually face death herself. She had never been to a funeral before, never seen a dead person before. But when this dead person was someone she knew and cared about more than he r own blood, made it even worse. But she wasn't doing this for herself. She had to be a friend for Cass, even though they hadn't been speaking for a while now. It didn't matter anymore, though. Cass was her friend and it was Alley's job to help her and comfort her when she needed it.

Taking a deep breath, as if to brace herself, she stepped into the room. Her eyes searched for Cass and she found her after a few seconds. It wasn't hard. She was standing in front of the light brown casket, staring down on her father's face. George and Paul stood on either side of her, their support holding her up. Alley approached cautiously, first avoiding the body and then finally letting her gaze fall upon the person she had always valued as a father figure. He looked like he was asleep; peaceful and content. It would have made Alley feel better except that he was too pale and he looked too stiff to be only sleeping. His body was there but his soul, his spirit, the essence that made him who he was, was long Alley. Swallowing her sadness and fear, Alley walked up behind her three friends. She reached out and put her hand on Cassidy's shoulder.

Cassidy jumped at the sudden touch, spinning around and seeing Alley for the first time in God knows how long. She wasn't sure what to say...whether she should push her away and turn around again, or if she should embrace her like a long lost sister. Tears rolled down her ample cheeks as she gazed at Alley waiting for someone to say something. For once, she didn't want to be the one to initiate conversation. Why was she here?

Alley looked into her friend's eyes and upon seeing her expression, couldn't help the tears that came into her own eyes. Her first instinct was to drive them away, blink them back. But this time she let them fall. She wanted to say so much to Cass but she had nothing in her to say. So, they stood there, looking into each other's eyes for a few moments before Alley finally grabbed Cass and pulled her towards herself and hugged her tightly.

Cassidy held on to her friend, her entire body shaking. "I'm so sorry," she whispered only for Alley to hear, not even caring about people watching at this point. "For everything."

"Don't be," Alley whispered back, gripping her friend like a drowning person would a life saver. "I am."

Cass sighed, taking a step back and looking around her. She wiped her face off, attempting to smile and failing miserably. She tried to say something meaningful and deep, but she ended up only getting one word out: "John."

Alley nodded, wiping her own eyes so that no one would see. She nodded stiffly and exhaled. "I heard."

"We should...we should go." She shrugged, glancing over at her sister, whose eyes were locked on their father. "There's nothing...I don't even want to be here right now," she admitted, pushing a lock of hair out of her face. She reached back, grasping Paul's had tightly in hers.

"Uh..." Alley began but her speech was cut short for a few moments as she looked into the coffin again. Shaking her head and tearing her gaze away, she said, "Yeah. We should go... we have to go. It's...it already started."

Cassidy nodded, turned, and looked down at her father once more. She stared for a second, trying to think of something deep, something meaningful to say. But nothing came to mind. She looked up, finding Cecilia's eyes on her, and gave her a halfhearted smile type thing. Cecilia scowled and looked away. Some things never change. She looked back at her father once more, wanting to reach out and touch him but feeling that would be frowned upon at a funeral. No, instead, she sighed, furrowed her brow, let one tear slide along the slope of her nose and onto his bloodless skin.

"I love you, daddy," she whispered.

Cecilia watched as Alley entered the room, looking uncomfortable and awkward and strange as ever. There was just something about Alley that she didn't like…and it had nothing to do with her sister. She never fully understood the entire fight between Alley and Cassidy, but she DID know that she didn't exactly help by telling Marilyn Bent about the whole thing with Paul. And sure, she felt awful about the entire situation, but it HAD helped her socially. And Cassidy hadn't even taken revenge on her.

A cold shiver raced down Cecilia's spine as she glanced at her sister, who's eyes were red and puffy and bloodshot. Her shoulders hunched over, and the determined way she usually held herself together was totally lost.

To say that Cecilia herself hadn't been sad would be a lie, but she hadn't completely broken down like Cassidy had. She supposed that Cass was still clinging to some misfit hope that their father was going to make it through. Cecilia had given up a long time ago, had cried her eyes out when no one was looking, and had been long since preparing herself for this day.

Obviously, Cassidy was not as smart. But that's how it had always been.

Cecilia stood beside the first pew in the funeral home, watching as Alley gingerly closed the distance between Cassidy and herself. And then there was Paul, in all his gorgeousness, striding purposefully across the room and standing next to Cass. She crumbled into him, a much needed pillar of strength.

As Alley and John eventually sidled into place beside her sister, Cecilia forced herself to look away. She couldn't take the sight of it, the four friends standing in solidarity in front of the casket. It was too much for her to handle.

Cecilia had always had more friends. Loads of them, always coming for visits and sleepovers and outings and wanting her to be with them. She always had a date to the various dances her school held, and she was never shy to join clubs and sports. Everyone who was anyone knew her, or at least knew her name. She WAS popular, she practically defined the word. Beautiful, smart, chipper, social. Good at everything. And Cassidy, very simply, was not.

Though she may be the girl who had everything, Cecilia had always suspected that her sister had the better end of the stick. Nobody held her on a pedestal, and it wasn't like she was friendless. There she was with Alley, and John and Paul were complete gods in the eyes of practically every girl at their high school. Nobody stood next to Cecilia now. The family milled about, occasionally coming up to her and giving her shoulder a comforting pat. Nobody stuck around to talk.

The moment she got the news about her father, Cecilia had called her 'best friends'. She fake cried on the phone with them and listened to their sympathetic comments on how everything was going to be alright. Like it it could ever be again. Cecilia had insisted she had no reason to live any more, that her life was filled with complete sorrow, and they had all told her how great she was and that she was the strongest person they knew. And they had all promised to stop by the funeral that night to pay their respects.

Not a single one showed.

Probably tomorrow, Melissa Nanny would say that she had to watch her little brother, so she couldn't get out of the house. Taylor O'Conner would complain that her mother made her cook dinner that night, and that she did EVERYTHING she could to try and get out of it, but her mother was such a bitch it really was a moot point. And then Ashley Harfield would exclaim that she had fallen asleep early, silly her, and that if there was ANY way to EVER make it up to her, Cecilia should let her know right away.

But that was tomorrow, which seemed so long off that it hurt. Right now, Cecilia stood there by herself, her eyes trained on her father's white face and her ears trained on her sister's stifled weeping. And in that moment she had never felt more alone.

…

This particular day was a dark one. It wasn't generally unusual for the Liverpool weather to be anything other than sunny; it was always raining and the sun always looked afraid to break out from behind the clouds. To John, this day was the darkest. The usual dark blue-grey clouds were an angry black and the rain came down like a sheet of cold, angry water, falling from the sky like the tears of angels. John found himself sitting on a wobbly wooden chair next to his aunt in the cemetery. They usually would let the immediate family sit down, while everyone stood behind them. John scoffed at this, wondering why the family would want to be on display. If one more person came up to him and asked him how he was doing, he would explode. He was uncomfortable with all the stares he was getting from sympathetic housewives and their old, retired husbands. It took all of his willpower to stay seated in that chair. If it wouldn't mean leaving his aunt alone, he would have taken off running and kept running until he was the only one there. There would be no more sympathetic stares, no more people trying to comfort him. He didn't want to see anyone.

He wanted to be alone.

But he couldn't leave. His aunt needed him and Lord knew that he needed someone to watch over him. So he didn't move, didn't get up, didn't run away like his brain was screaming at him to do. Instead, he slumped lower into the chair and looked around, trying to avoid the coffin that was right before his eyes. Because he knew that if he looked at it then everything would be real. And who wanted something like this to be real? John closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, he found himself staring at the far corner of the cemetery where a group of four people seemed to be. They were walking towards the group of people standing on the other side of the coffin. Squinting, he tried to make out who they were. Anything was better than looking at the coffin. When they finally did come into view, John felt something strange inside of him- a surge of emotion that made him want to cry out. But he kept his mouth pressed into a firm line and didn't say anything. He watched as they approached, getting closer and closer. His eyes scanned each one of them individually, his gaze going from left to right.

Cass, walked slowly in her all black dress. Her eyes were puffy and red and she looked completely defeated. John remembered vaguely her coming over to his house earlier that day and telling him about her father. Somewhere inside, he felt a pang of regret from not going to his funeral. He seemed to be passing through the day now, not knowing what time it was or even where he was sometimes. His gaze moved over to Paul; somber-looking in a dark black suit and tie. He almost wanted to smile. He felt grateful that his friend would be there for him. Next to him was a boy in a dark grey suit that looked a bit too small on his tall frame. John searched his mind for his name for a few seconds before remembering that it was George- a friend of Paul's. Weird, he thought, a boy he hardly knew was attending the funeral. His gaze moved over once more and he felt his heart stop for a second. There stood Alley, looking uncomfortable in a plain black dress, walking alongside the other three. She looked at the ground as she walked, her face not betraying any emotion as usual. John had to hold back the tears more than ever just then; feeling a bit of happiness that Alley was there. But it was short-lived. The priest called attention to everyone at that moment, signaling that the funeral was beginning.

He forced himself to look at the coffin then, figuring that if he didn't now, he would never see it again. He let his gaze travel over it, taking in the dark cherry wood and the shininess of the gold-type handles. It wasn't that bad, he reasoned with himself. It wasn't as horrible as he thought it would be. Draped across the top of the coffin were a bunch of red roses and wildflowers. It was almost nice, he thought to himself and immediately thought that thinking a flower arrangement at a funeral was nice must mean he was sick and twisted. Shaking his thoughts from his mind, he kept his eyes on the coffin as the priest read. He felt that even though he wanted to look away, he couldn't.

He wouldn't look away until the coffin was lowered into the ground.

Cassidy walked firmly despite how worn out she was. She saw John in the distance, staring at them, looking a little worse for wear. Paul walked beside her, still grasping her hand, and tried his best not to look like he was about to pass out. He stepped next to John, clapping a hand on his shoulder, and exchanged a look with him. Neither Cassidy nor Paul said anything, merely staring at the flowers and grave with varying degrees of misery on each of their faces. George stood off to the side, near Cassidy, trying to get a grip on the entire situation. He hadn't said a word the entire time he'd been out, feeling it wasn't really his place to say anything. Now, as he watched the Lennon family grieve, he felt only a fraction of what John was feeling. And not really knowing John, he felt out of his place to comfort him. So he kinda just...stood there.

Alley stood next to her friends, behind John, feeling as stiff as a board. She couldn't have moved forward if she tried. Two funerals in one day would be enough to cripple anyone inside but seeing John the way he was, the blank look on his face as he stared at the coffin, hurt her more than anything else could. She wanted so bad to comfort her, to make him feel better but the anger she saw in him earlier that morning was still fresh in her mind and she was at a loss. She couldn't move, couldn't speak so she just stared ahead.

The funeral went by faster than Alley would have expected. It seemed like they had just arrived to the funeral and now, the coffin was being lowered into the ground, the family told to say their last goodbyes. John and his Aunt Mimi went forward, each throwing a handful of dirt down into the grave. Mimi broke down halfway through and a family member moved to help her back to the car. John just stood there for a few more minutes, looking down into the grave as the diggers were piling the dirt on top of it. Then he turned abruptly, looking into his friend's eyes. After giving a slight nod in their direction, he turned and slowly followed his aunt to the car that would take them home. Alley sucked in air and then exhaled it slowly. She looked at her other three friends, unsure of what to say. She was never good in situations like these.

Cassidy, on the other hand, always had something to say. "The flowers were rather nice," she commented dully, gesturing in front of her. Paul nodded in agreement. "They looked rather lovely with the...you know...ground."

Alley couldn't help but smile at that. "Yeah," she said with a slight chuckle. "The roses really complimented the ground."

It was quiet for a long while, all four of them just admiring the ground and the nice way it was set off by the flowers. Then, much to everybody's chagrin, it started raining. A heavy downpour, totally setting the mood. George, who had been rather quiet (surprise, surprise), said at that time, "I'm hungry."

Alley felt the rumble in her own stomach then. "Ugh. Me too."

Cass lifted a floppy lock of saturated hair off her forehead, then looked down at her soaked dress. "I'm gonna...yeah, I have to change. I'm a bit wet."

"Later, then," Paul said, running his fingers through his hair and letting the rain spray his face. "We'll meet up for a bite to eat."

"Yeah," Alley said, nodding and shaking the water out of her hair. "I'd like that. George?"

George ran his hand across his flat belly and the overstretched tweed of his jacket. "Aye, sounds good."

"Okay," Alley said, nodding her head and attempting a small smile. "Later then."

…

You would think that upon looking at someone who had just been to back-to-back funerals, you would find a somber expression on their face. One would expect such a person to be quiet and refined; looking like the world had seriously let them down. A person such as this would be walking slowly, with their head down; not able to look the world in the face. They would be bothered by the sounds of everyday life—birds chirping, cars passing by, people shouting to one another in the street.

Alley, however, was not at all like the stereotype of a bereaved person. She, although being a person such as this, walked with confidence and her head held high. Her face was set aglow with the happiness bursting inside of her and the smile on her face was more like a wide grin. She didn't even care that it was raining and that she was soaking wet. Certainly it wasn't the result of the funerals that caused her joy but rather a restored relationship that she thought was broken beyond repair. She and Cass had become friends again.

It was something that caused Alley to be so happy and she found that the crushing weight she felt inside had been lifted and she could breathe again. The pain that had been constantly tugging at her heart since that cold day in Blackpool was gone. In a sense, she felt freer and like all was well in the world—her world. But, that also wasn't entirely true. Her smile was only for being friends with Cass again. Darkness and sadness were still there, swirling inside of her like acidic butterflies.

Two funerals in one day would be too much for anyone to take. But for Alley—it was worse because the two people who died were people she knew, interacted with and liked. It was not an easy thing to watch and deal with. Cass was absolutely crushed and it made her heart hurt to see her friend in that kind of pain. And John-seeing him that way was something she would see in her mind forever. Seeing him sitting there, not moving and staring straight ahead, looking like the light had left his eyes was an even harder pill to swallow. Thinking about what she saw at both funerals made a lump form in her throat and her stomach uneasy.

All Alley wanted to do now was relax and maybe even sleep for a while. She was happy but also extremely exhausted. Not only physically but emotionally drained as well. Her hopes were dashed though when she rounded the corner of her street and saw Royce's truck parked crookedly in the driveway. The dread she felt wash over her made the acid butterflies go crazy-like they were on fire. Usually, Royce was at the bar around this time, getting drunk with his buddies. Bracing herself as she walked up the sidewalk, Alley forced herself to take a breath. She already knew what was going to happen before she opened the door.

"Well where the fuck have you been?"

It was the first thing Alley heard when she stepped through the doorway into the darkened living room. She scanned the room quickly, scowling when she saw a very drunk Royce sitting on the couch. Beer bottles surrounded him and he held another in his hand. Garrett, she saw, was sitting on the chair with a closed newspaper on his lap. She began to look for her mother but then realized that she wasn't there. For the past while, she had been at her sister's house in London. Each stay had been longer than the previous one and Alley worried that one day she wouldn't come back. Royce's stunned, angry voice brought her back to reality.

"Are you deaf, girl?" he said, throwing an empty beer bottle at her. It bounced off her leg and shattered at her feet. "I said—where have you been?"

Alley turned and headed for the stairs, not intending to speak to Royce. She wanted to get up to her room, lock the door and not come out for a few hours. Her room, as small and crowded as it was, was her sanctuary. A place where she could be alone and away from the horrors of what walked through the rest of the house. As always, nothing could go the way she wanted it to. Royce was up like a flash, grabbing her by the back of the neck and growling like a savage animal. He pulled her backwards and spun her around, slamming her into the wall with a ferocity she didn't know he possessed. She actually felt more than scared and not like it was just a routine beating.

"I was at the funerals, Royce!" she spat out, the fear making her sound strangled. She struggled to get out of his grasp. "Let me go!"

"Funerals?" Royce mocked, his face twisted in an evil snarl. "Who gives a fuck about those idiots that died! Good riddance if you ask me."

Alley saw pure red then. She glared at Royce, anger replacing the fear. He saw it on her face and chuckled at her. She stiffened.

"You know better than to leave!" he screamed. "I need someone here to make my meals for me!"

Alley wasn't feeling scared anymore. Her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. "You got two hands you motherfuckin' wanker!" With a burst of strength, she pushed him away. "Make your own goddamn food!"

Royce was beyond pissed to say the least. His face went white from anger—he was livid. Garrett, who had been sitting silently the whole time, even stood and walked to where they stood. As Royce moved at her, Garrett put a hand on his father's arm.

"Da…."

Royce spun, getting a grip on Garrett's arm. From the look on his face, Alley could see that Royce was squeezing his arm. "What?"

Garrett looked scared—something that wasn't usual. He was left alone by Royce mostly and didn't like putting himself in harm's way if he didn't have to. And he was quite a bastard—he didn't usually stick up for Alley. Hell, they practically hated each other. But he too knew the pain caused at the hands of Royce and sometimes, if he couldn't turn a blind eye, he would try and spare Alley if he could.

"Nothing," he mumbled lamely. Royce let him go and turned back to Alley.

Alley fixed him with a glare. "Fuck you, you drunk Irish bastard!"

With a feral growl, he backhanded Alley. She spun around from the force of it and hit the door, hard. Dizzy and bleeding, she sank slowly to the floor. When she was able to focus her eyes again, she saw Garrett's were wide with shock. Royce was angrily muttering to himself. Suddenly, he stopped and locked his eyes on Alley. It was like he had some revelation.

"I have to teach her a lesson." It was a statement; was really talking to himself.

Hurriedly, he undid his belt and pulled it loose from his pants. The sound of leather sliding across fabric nauseated Alley and made her feel cold all over. Garrett broke suddenly from his frozen state and pitched forward, grabbing his father's arm.

"Da—don't! Just leave it alone!"

Royce spun around and lashed out at Garrett, the belt catching him in the face. He got up quickly from the floor and stood, unsure of what to do. Bright red blood was pouring down his face from where the belt had struck and he looked more than scared. Alley caught his gaze and an understanding flowed between them in a matter of seconds. She nodded ever so slightly and after a few moments, he turned and ran out. Royce looked back, grinning evilly.

"You need to learn."

Alley let a silent prayer flow through her head as he came at her. As he raised his hand, she cringed and let her mind wander away from where she was. Her only hope was that it would be over soon.

…

"This," Cassidy said, raising a cheeseburger to her lips, "is exactly what I needed."

A feast of burgers and fries and milkshakes sat before her and her friends, although it had to be said that most of the food was ordered by George, who was missing at the moment.

"Oh hell yeah," Alley said through a bite of her own bacon cheeseburger and a sip of Coke. "This is what I fuckin' needed." She tried her best to show her best carefree and easy smile but the pain she was in was enough to make her want to pass out.

It was then that George showed up, a bag of ice in one hand and a pickle in the other. He took a bite of the pickle, tossed the ice at Alley, and said, "That should suit ya. The owner says that you and Cass probably have paid half of his bills, so he owes it to ya."

Alley looked at him suspiciously. "What the fuck is the ice for?"

Alley didn't say anything but took the ice and gingerly placed it on her face. "Thanks," she mumbled, not quite meeting George's gaze. Her friends knew about Royce and what he did by now but she still didn't want to show it. Pity was for the weak. Or so she grew up to believe.

Paul sat next to Cass and across from George and Alley. He studied Alley's face carefully, having been doing so since she half-limped into the diner. "Alley," he said, leaning forward. He glanced at Cass quickly before continuing. "Are you really okay?"

"I'm fine," she said with an unconvincing smile. "Nothing I'm not used to."

Cass examined her friend's face, every bump and bruise and cut and all the pain that showed in her eyes. Suppressed pain that she was sure only she could see. She stuffed a fry in her mouth, chewing it carefully and thoughtfully. "Liar," she remarked with little grin, the best she could manage after the day she'd had. Outside, the rain poured down heavily and created the hum of background noise.

"If you were really fine, you'd be with John right now," Cass remarked. "Not hiding from him."

George frowned at this accusation, wondering how Alley being here counted as hiding. Not one of them had talked to John after the funeral, or heard from him since.

Alley sucked in her breath. "I'm sure he doesn't want to see anyone right now," she offered lamely. In truth, she was just scared. What do you say to someone who went through what he did? Alley wasn't good with emotional things and she was afraid to face John.

Cass nodded, seeing right through her friend as usual. She didn't challenge her again though, so instead she just shrugged. "I'm here, aren't I? And even though what happened was a tragedy and all...I dunno. It feels a little unreal to me. And I think John not talking about is going to be his demise."

Paul nodded, putting an arm around Cass. "She's right, Al." He sighed and shook his head, feeling his heart break for his best friend. He knew exactly what he was going through. "Sometimes it's good to go through some of it alone. But if you don't talk about it, it's only gonna be worse."

"I know!" Alley replied, half slamming her hand on the table. The soda in her class sloshed around, threatening to spill over onto the once white but now more grey table. "But why the fuck do I have to be the one to talk to him?" She looked to her hands which she was twisting together on her lap. "I wouldn't know what to say," she muttered, low and more pathetic-sounding.

"Aye, I suppose I do," Paul said, smiling down at Cass. "It's not something to be proud of but I know how to help him through this. But Al," he leaned forward again and lifted her chin so that she was looking at him, "you have to talk to him soon."

Alley nodded wordlessly.

George didn't have much to contribute to the conversation, but he could tell that it would probably be on Cassidy's and Alley's minds for a while.

Cassidy looked at him then. "Not to change the subject or anything," she said, even though it totally WAS to change the subject, "but you were quite the discussion topic in our dinner conversation the other night, Georgie. And Paul, too."

George raised his thick eyebrows, surprised. "Yeah?"

Cass nodded. "Cecilia was going on and on about how a boy-some guy named Paul McCartney-was gonna ask her out, and how I was trying to steal her boyfriend. Her boyfriend being, of course, George." For the first time in what felt like years, Cass actually laughed. "She told Marilyn Bent about me and Paul."

Paul had first laughed at the fact that Cecilia thought he would ask her out when he clearly, loved- love, was it love?- her sister. But when he heard the part about Marilyn Bent, he nearly choked on his drink. After a coughing fit, he managed to gasp out, "She did what?"

"Shit," Alley commented before promptly bursting out into laughter. "That's tough."

"I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do about her. Honestly. I don't care about rumors and that shit...but I just don't understand why she wants to ruin me so much. And now that...now that my-er-my Da's," she swallowed gruffly, "gone, there's no one to defend me from her. My mother doesn't care. I've told her a thousand times." She ran her hands through her curls, trying to shake off the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes. "It's just hard." She let out a humorless laugh. "Really rough."

"I got an idea," Alley said, her eyes lighting up mischeviously. She couldn't hold her smirk back.

Cass raised her eyebrows, curious. "What?" she asked, her voice coming out a bit strained because of the lump in her throat

"Let me fuckin' smack that bitch silly!" Alley replied, chuckling a bit. "I mean that in the nicest possible way of course."

"Well I'm not opposed to seeing that happen. I would never hit a woman but I suppose a girl hittin' a girl is all right."

Cass shook her head almost as quickly as George let out a sort of squeak-growl. "No," he said, "Cecilia isn't even that bad at all. She's just a little...I dunno...misunderstood." Cass actually laughed. "She's my sister, I know what she is. She's not misunderstood, she's a bitch. But...I dunno. I just don't even want to think about her sometimes."

"It's not your fault she's a bitch," Alley said, finishing her hamburger and pushing it aside. She threw herself back into the booth but nearly screamed when she felt the pain shoot through her body. She almost forgot. Trying to hide her wincing she continued, "She enjoys being a bitch. She's probably fuckin' jealous of you."

Cass shook her head slowly. "In which case it is my fault she's a bitch, seeing as I never gave her any reason to be jealous."

"No," Paul said softly, squeezing her against him. "It's not your fault. She chose her own way to be. She sees what you have and is mad at herself for not being able to get it for herself. Plus," he said, stroking her tousled hair lovingly, "she will never be able to have your heart."

"Fuck," Alley said, looking at Paul incredulously. She was touched but what he had said. At that moment, she could see that Cass and Paul were meant for each other.

Cass leaned her head into Paul's chest, closing her eyes and trying desperately not to cry. "I love you," she said, slightly embarrassed that Alley could hear and slightly uncaring.

George, who had just finished eating, pushed his wrappers away from himself. "Aw, shut up," he said with a smile.

"Yeah," Alley agreed but she was smiling as well. "All this lovey-dovey crap makes me want to barf." It was a typical Alley thing to say but her tone was light and betrayed her true feelings. She was happy for Paul and Cass and how they loved each other.

Cass rolled her head on Paul's chest, looking at her friend. "I'm glad we're back, Alley. I've missed you. I've missed this. Even if I do like the lovey-dovey crap more than you." She smiled up at Paul.

Alley nodded, reaching across the table to lightly punch Cass in the arm. "Me too."

"I think we're all glad," Paul said, smiling and stretching back in the booth, enjoying the feeling of Cass leaning against him. He looked from Alley to George who, despite the circumstances, were smiling. "All that's left is to look into the future."

…

**Catie AN: All I have to say is that Paul is the most attractive human being who has ever walked this Earth. Okay bye.**

**Addie AN: I know! John is so sexy! Especially when he was all sad and stuff. I would so comfort him.**

**Catie AN: Addie, you spelled Paul wrong again. It's P-A-U-L. **

**Addie AN: That's what I wrote. J-O-H-N.**

**Catie AN: Are you incompetent? It's either that or you're blind. Or maybe you're an alien and you've never seen a real, good looking male before, and THAT is why you think John is even remotely attractive.**

**Addie AN: Are you talking about yourself and your family again? I know you have a hard time adjusting and you are used to being attractive to slime-covered green men but it's okay, just keeping looking at the sex god that is Lennon and everything should be all right.**

**Catie AN: Sorry, I WOULD attempt to look at him, but I'm rather fond of my eyes and I wouldn't want them to burn out of my skull. **

**Addie AN: That doesn't happen when you look in the mirror?**

**Catie AN: Occasionally, but only when I'm wearing my John Lennon shirt. That's quite the coincidence, isn't it?**

**Addie AN: If anything, I think it's John's eyes burning. I mean, he has no choice to look in the mirror when you do.**

**Catie AN: Usually inanimate objects can't see...but okay, Addie. Whatever you say. If you think that T-shirts have eyes, that's fine. I'm not judging.**

**Addie AN: Hey, it's a crazy world. They let you in didn't they?**

**Catie AN: You see, readers, Addie is referring to the fact that I am, in fact a Time Lord Witch (Hogwarts class of 2014), and she is quite insecure with the fact that I am, and will always be, better than her in every way possible because I've been in Doctor Who AND Harry Potter. And I invented okapis. But who's bragging?**

**Addie AN: Yes, and the fact that she has come up with this theory after too many times of banging her head against a padded wall means nothing.**

**Catie AN: You're right, nothing at all. HAHA oh okay guys, it seems that we've been going on forever, so we'll let you guys go now. Just as long as you review, tell us what you think, leave us some suggestions to what could make this story better, and, of course, praise us for the goddesses that we are. Love you all!**

**Addie AN: Yes, please! Cause after all, we are review whores! But yes, review and tell us all your thoughts and of course, praise is nice. Peace!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Catie AN: Okay...so this is better, right? Not the quickest of updates, but it would have only been like two and a half weeks had I not taken two fucking weeks to write 1,000 words. I'm pathetic sometimes. However! I'd like to believe that we're getting better. Addie? Anything to add-ie?**

**Addie AN: Oh Catie, stop it! You're pathetic all the time! :D Yes, though, on a serious note, we are getting better. I think that we are getting pretty kick-ass, actually. Add-ie? Ha. Cute. Not. :P**

**Catie AN: I'm not as pathetic as the girl whose favorite adjective is kick-ass. Now am I? Mhmmm, that's right, bitch. Oh, Addie, you know I love you. And before you can say anything back, save it for the ending ANs, because this chapter is long and juicy (yes, that's right, like oranges) and it's gonna literally blow your pants off. Are you wondering how that will happen? You're just gonna have to read and find out.**

**Addie AN: So read. Go. Now. **

...

Two months had gone by. Two long, grueling months, one harder than the next for the Farrells and the Lennons alike. And still, they survived, lived to see another day. Kept on fighting and trying to stay strong for the people that needed them most.

For Cassidy, those months meant constant avoidance of her mother, who was, very simply put, going off the deep end, and watching out for Cecilia. Her little sister seemed to have developed quite the eye for mischief, and nowadays she was coming home reeking of cigarettes and, every so often, booze. Like mother like daughter.

As far as how she was doing herself, she was just thanking God she had people like George, Alley, and Paul to rely on. George was just a sweetheart, still trying to get Cecilia to join that light side and dissuade her from hanging out with those upperclassmen as she had so taken to. Alley was always there, as she had always been, when she was feeling particularly upset about something. After their whole fight, the two of them seemed to fall back into their natural relationship; easy, fiercely protective, inseparable, harmonious. Paul, too, was just an angel. After going through such a hard time himself, it was clear to him that he had to help Cassidy cope with what she was going through. He knew exactly how she felt, and it was good to have someone to relate to.

Others were not dealing…quite so well, you could say. And yes, 'others' is John, who seemed to slightly fall apart at the seams. After hanging out with Alley for so long and basking under her influence, he joined Cassidy's mother over there in the deep end, staying out too late, drinking far too much for his friends' tastes, and being with more women with usual.

Even worse, that wonderful passion that he'd always kept up for music seemed to fade somewhat, and he spent less time fiddling around with chords and melodies and more time strumming wildly and scratching out barely recognizable tunes. Paul was deeply concerned, as this was just as much of a problem for him as it was for John, but he didn't step in until John completely gave up on what he had once singled out as his sole dream; music. There was something wrong, something horribly wrong, and Paul knew that it was not enough anymore to just listen to John say that yeah, he was doing completely fine. It was time to take action.

At first, it didn't seem as though John WANTED help, or WANTED Paul to come anywhere near his true thoughts, but eventually, the girls started noticing some difference in his behavior. It was further proof that you DID start to feel better after you let go of some of that frustration, sadness, and overwhelming contempt that can gather in your gut.

When the school year finally let out and John and Alley were released forever, some invisible pressure seemed to be lifted off his shoulders. He smiled more, got back his old sense of humor, and had even taken to teasing and making fun of Cassidy again. Things were looking better, it seemed, for both Cassidy and John, as well as their families. No one was stirring up major trouble, and the friendship between the four of them, Cassidy, Paul, Alley, and John, was steady and strong. It seemed like just when things had taken a turn for the better…

A shot was fired.

…

The street looked dark from the front window that Alley was staring out of. She was waiting for John to arrive—he was walking over to get her. They were supposed to head over to the Cavern to watch some other band perform and then meet Paul and Cassidy after. Keeping as quiet as she could, she leaned over the chair arm to have a better view from the window, always looking back every few seconds at the stairs.

"Well fuck off, John," she whispered to herself and pushed away from the window, deciding to head to the kitchen for a drink.

Alley felt a sudden craving for orange juice and she pulled open the small white fridge, busying herself by rooting around for the juice. She groaned in discouragement when all she found was cans of beer and some was past expired milk. She slammed the fridge door with a muttered curse and settled for water from the tap. She was lost in her thoughts as the water ran to get cold and she didn't hear the loud footsteps coming up behind her. When she felt a hand on the back of her neck, she cried out and dropped the glass in her hand. It spun in the air and hit the floor with a thundering crash.

"Where do you think you're going?" Royce growled, his eyes burning into hers and his breath stunk of alcohol. He had a tight hold on her neck and was squeezing hard.

"Royce," Alley pleaded, trying to keep her tone controlled but failing. She was scared and Royce could see it. And he was enjoying it.

"Are you going out with that Lennon boy?" he asked in a voice that suggested he was disgusted. "That freak! What does he see in trash like you?"

Alley didn't answer. She tried getting out of Royce's grip but it only angered him more and he slammed her back against the counter, causing her to cry out in pain. She hated being alone with him in the house because that's when he hurt her the most. Not that having her mother and step-brother there made the situation any different but at least, he wouldn't go completely crazy on her like he was doing now. She cried out again when she felt a sharp pain shoot up her side and Royce grinned. He was enjoying her pain—more than usual – there was a strange glint of satisfaction in his ebony eyes that made her breath catch in her throat. He looked truly evil then and for the first time, Alley was afraid that Royce could be capable of murder. All she wanted to do was get out of there before the events took a dangerous turn.

"Royce, please!" Alley said, not bothering to try and control her voice this time. "Stop it!"

But Royce didn't seem to hear her.

"I bet he only likes you because you fuck him," he said with an evil sneer on his face. She looked down, not wanting to see his penetrating stare. She and John hadn't done anything but—she wanted to. "I bet he doesn't even like you," Royce went on, laughing evilly as he did. "Who would want a worthless piece of trash like you? You're a whore, just like your mother!"

Alley looked up sharply then, her electrified eyes glaring at Royce. All her life she had taken verbal abuse from him and mostly she just let it roll off of her. But now she could feel the anger rising in her chest and boiling her blood. It surpassed the fear for a brief few seconds and all she saw around her was pure red. With an alarming burst of strength, she broke free from Royce's grasp.

"You bastard!" she screamed and grabbed a glass jar from the counter, smashing it over his head. Royce barely staggered and when a slow, menacing smile appeared on his face, Alley felt cold dread sweep over her.

"You're going to pay for that," Royce said in a deadly whisper.

Alley ran towards the door but Royce grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back towards him so that he now held her against his body. She struggled with determination, trying to get away from him. When he moved to the stove and switched the front burner on the full, she felt her heart leap into her throat and she struggled harder.

"You think your boyfriend will like you when you look like a monster?" Royce breathed into her ear and then laughed a horrible laugh.

Alley watched as the sound black burner began to slowly turn red as it began to heat up. Royce was holding her tightly and slowly pushing her towards the small stove. It was strange how when you're faced with something horrible about to happen, you notice the weirdest things. Alley noticed how the broken down and old the stove looked. There were numerous cracks on the white surface and the window on the oven door was cracked. Permanent food stains were splattered on the door and on the weathered stove knobs. Foolishly she thought that they should be getting a new stove soon. As she got closer to the burner, she snapped out of her placid state and screamed a horrible, loud sound.

John was walking furiously up the walkway to Alley's house, silently scolding himself for being late. He had been writing a new song and had lost all track of time. When he finally stopped, he realized he was already over half an hour late and immediately rushed to her house. It wasn't that he felt bad for being late – okay maybe he felt a little bad – but more that he didn't want to hear Alley bawling him out for making her wait. Just as he stepped up to the door and prepared to knock, he heard a blood curdling and terrified scream coming from inside.

_Alley._

John shoved himself against the door and it opened easily, some pieces of wood

splintering off and dropping to the floor. John ran through the small house, towards the direction of the sounds of a struggle he heard. Bursting into the kitchen, he saw Royce holding Alley over the stove and dangerously close to pressing her face against the glowing red burner. Seeing her in distress like that stirred up something inside him and he charged forward, tackling them both to the ground. Alley, looking at him with wide-eyed surprise, pushed herself backwards until her back hit the wall. Royce was in a fury and he stood quickly, staring at John with rage-filled eyes.

"Don't you know it's rude to interrupt people, boy?" Royce asked, him and John moving in a circle while never breaking their gaze on each other. Alley didn't move, too afraid to even properly process what was happening.

John shrugged, his mouth twitching ever so slightly in a sarcastic smirk. "Not really."

"Someone should teach you a lesson."

"Try it, you fucking drunken bastard!" John nearly screamed, his face turning a few shades darker with anger. He was balling his fists at his side, ready to punch Royce if he decided to leap forward.

But Alley shifted and John looked over at her, taking his eyes off Royce for a fraction of a second. There Royce saw his opportunity and he jumped forward, wrapping his arms around John's waist and tackling him backwards into the living room. Alley sat still against the wall, staring ahead of her in a sort of shocked state. She heard grunts of pain from the other room and the sounds of fists hitting flesh. When there was a deafening crash and then silence, she broke from her paralyzed shock and stood, running into the room.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the horrible scene before her eyes. Gripping the door frame so she wouldn't fall to her knees, she let her eyes wander the room. Royce was standing over John who was lying on the ground, motionless with blood down the side of his face. There were shards of glass on the floor, both around him and on him. It seemed that Royce grabbed the mirror from the wall and smashed it over John's head. Alley held back a scream when she saw John not moving. She wondered if he was dead. But she didn't get a chance to check. Royce spun around and strode toward her. Her eyes travelled around wildly for some kind of weapon and before Royce grabbed her, she took a kitchen knife from the counter that was near the doorway. She held it behind her back.

"You both need to learn a lesson," he was saying, pushing her backwards after each word.

"And it seems like I'm the one who has to teach it to you."

"You're a sick fuck," Alley replied, staring him down. He hurt John—maybe even killed him.

And she was not going to be afraid anymore. She was going to kill him. She gripped the kitchen knife in her hand and stepped forward, an animal scream ripping from her throat as she plunged it into his chest.

Or so she thought.

Royce was wearing a thick white sweater and the knife got caught in the threads, not even breaking skin. Royce caught the handle of the knife and twisted it out of her hand, pushing her down to the floor. He stood above her, the knife raised in his hand. He looked down at her, a strange expression on his face. Alley closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to come.

But it never did.

**BANG! BANG!**

Alley froze as the loud noise that sounded like fireworks going off exploded in the room. She opened her eyes in time to Royce's face contort into a shocked expression and he slowly looked down at his chest and made a weird, gurgling noise as he saw the two red circles, expanding as the blood seeped from them. He remained upright for a few more seconds, blinked his eyes and then fell forward at Alley's feet. She gasped loudly when she saw Garrett standing a few feet from where Royce had stood only seconds before. In his hand he held a gun- Royce's gun- and there was a small amount of smoke coming from the barrel. She didn't know what to say and before she could formulate a response, she heard groaning and she spun around to face John.

"John! You're okay!" Alley said, relief flooding over her instantly. She kneeled by his side and grabbed his arm, helping him to his feet. His eyes widened when he saw Royce and then Garrett with the gun in his hand. He wasn't pointing it anymore but instead, holding it by his side. He even looked a bit shocked at what he just did.

"You- you killed him!" Alley managed, the shock causing her voice to come out strained. She looked from Royce's body to Garrett and back and forth a few times. "You killed him!" she repeated when Garrett remained silent.

"I know," Garrett said finally, his voice barely over a whisper. "I always wanted to kill the bastard." Suddenly, he stirred as if he just realized what was happening. He looked at Alley and John, his eyes beginning to look wild. "Get out of here!" he screamed.

Alley was still stunned and she didn't think she heard him right. "What? Garrett- what do you mean?"

"GET OUT OF HERE!" he screamed again, kicking at the small corner table so hard the lamp fell off and shattered on the floor. "You and him," he said, pointing to John, "Get out, now! Don't come back until tomorrow or they'll think you had something to do with this!"

"But-"

"GO!"

"Come on, Alley," John said, breaking from his silence. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out the front door. They ran all the way to his house without stopping, without talking. Once they got inside and into John's room, they both let out the breath they had been holding. John collapsed back onto his bed and Alley slowly sat beside him. For a few moments, the only sound filling the room was that of their ragged breathing.

"I don't know what to say," Alley said suddenly, turning to look at him. She kept seeing the night's past events flash before her eyes and made her want to scream. "Why did he kill him?"

"He was fucking bastard," John replied, not caring enough at the moment to be blunt. He groaned from the pain in his head and grabbed a dirty t-shirt off the floor to wipe the blood from his face.

"I know he was," Alley agreed. "But- I just can't believe that- I can't believe Garrett killed him."

John sat up, sitting directly beside her now. "Better him than us," he said softly.

She looked over to him and their gazes locked. "Yeah," she said, moving her face closer to his. "I guess so."

For a few seconds, they silently stared into each other's eyes, neither of them moving; not even breathing. And then, as if there were magnets pulling them, their lips met and they began kissing furiously, with more passion than either of them knew they had in them. Alley let herself fall back onto the bed and John came with her, hovering over her as they continued to kiss. This time when John slid his hand up under her shirt, she didn't stop him. John broke away after another little while and looked down at her.

"Are you sure?" he asked, a little smirk on his face.

Was she sure? Alley thought about this as she looked in his eyes- his beautiful eyes and his beautiful face. When this had happened before, she stopped him. But now- and for a while- she had wanted to do this. She thought many times what it would be like to do this. With John especially. She felt a little scared now that it was about to happen and for a split second, she thought of stopping him. But then she saw the events that had happened that night and all she wanted to do was get away from it- to give into passion and to let everything else in her life go for a short while. Staring into John's eyes, she gave him a smile and nodded.

"More than ever."

And with that he smiled back and continued to kiss her. She let herself go and began to feel happy- more happy than she had ever felt in her entire life. And without another second thought or moment of hesitation, she gave into him completely.

…

The light streamed through the window in what seemed like an extra bright way that morning and hit Alley square in the face. Usually, she would have grunted and groaned and pulled the blankets over her head, wanting the world to go away for a few more minutes so she could hold onto her sleep for a bit longer. But this morning, she let the light fall on her; she drank it in and smiled. It was a long time ago that she felt this happy and at peace with herself. And instead of sleep, she wanted to hold onto her happiness for a little bit longer. She moved from her position, half-facing the wall, onto her other side and smiled again when she saw John. He was sleeping quietly next to her on his back, his eyes closed and a peaceful expression on his face. A part of her couldn't believe that they had done what they did but a bigger part of her was exploding with happiness. When John turned his face slightly though, she saw the small cut on his head. The blood was dried away by now but she could still see the thin, jagged line that Royce had given him only a few hours earlier.

_Oh God, _she thought, the events of the previous night rushing forward from the back of her mind and the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. _Royce._

As the events of the night before played in her mind like some sick horror movie, she felt her stomach tighten with dread and fear. It wasn't just some horrible dream that her sometimes overactive imagination had cooked up or something that she and John could hide away from forever. The night before, Royce had tried to kill her and John. And in those same moments when Alley was sure she would finally lose her life to Royce, Garrett swooped in and saved her-saved them. But in doing so, he killed Royce. Alley wasn't exactly sure how she should feel about that. She hated Royce with every fiber of her being; as most people who came in contact with him did. And with Royce being gone, she was guaranteed that she would never have anyone lay a hand on her again. She could be free and not have to worry about what would await her every single time she went home. It was only something she prayed for over and over again for many years. But Royce was dead-dead as in gone forever, candle snuffed out, game over. Garrett was the one who killed him. No matter who he was in life, Alley couldn't quite process that she had witnessed a murder. Especially a murder where a son killed his own father in cold blood. Alley didn't know quite what to do with it yet.

John stirred at that moment and Alley, focusing her attention on him again, smiled. He's fluttered for a few seconds before opening fully and for a moment, he looked around the room. When his eyes settled on Alley, he broke out into a grin. They were both happy; happy to be in their own little place for a while and away from the trials and tribulations of the world. The memory of what they shared only a little while before was still fresh in their minds and both were happy that it happened.

"So it really happened huh?" Alley said with a bit of a chuckle. She moved closer to John, half-resting her head on his shoulder. John laughed and it resonated through him, shaking his chest slightly so Alley could feel it.

"I reckon it did," he said. He couldn't help but smile to himself contentedly. He had wanted to do this with Alley since the day he met her. And it wasn't as disgusting as it sounded either- it wasn't because he was a man who could get a girl whenever he wanted. It was because he felt a certain pull to her; an attraction that he couldn't quite put into words. And doing this-with her-it was different; somehow special and sacred.

Alley sighed happily and snuggled closer towards him. "I don't want to get up!" she complained. "I want to stay here forever."

John chuckled again. "Happy are we?"

"Yeah," Alley replied with a grin and then she sighed. "But also—when we leave, we gotta go back to the real world. And in the real world, we saw Garrett kill Royce."

"Fuck!" John said, remembering what had happened at Alley's house the night before.

"That really did fuckin' happen didn't it?"

"It really fuckin' did."

For a few moments, they both lay there in silence, listening to each other breathe. It was so quiet and serene. In the distance, they could hear people walking around outside and cars driving by; people going about their daily business. It was getting nearer and nearer to the time when they would both have to get up and they were trying to hold on to it as long as they could. After a few more seconds of the peaceful silence, John sighed and then chuckled lightly.

"What?" Alley asked, craning her neck to look into his eyes.

"We were supposed to meet Paul and Cass last night," he replied with a shrug and a smirk. Alley shook her head and chuckled and then suddenly, her expression turned into one of shock and a little horror. John noticed and raised his eye-brows at her.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh fuck me!" she groaned and put her hand over her eyes. John chuckled and she pushed him playfully. "Not you, ya dick!" She groaned again and shook her head. Finally, she lowered her hand and met John's awaiting gaze. "I'm a hypocrite!" she said finally.

He flipped onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. "How so?"

"Because," Alley said, turning herself so that she faced John, "I flipped out on Cass for sleeping with Paul. I lectured her like she was my fuckin' kid and now—and now- I-"

"Sleep with me?" John offered with a slight chuckle.

"Well—yeah!" Alley said, crossing her arms. She shook her head and half-smirked.

"Well—what the fuck can you do? She's just gonna have to get over it ain't she?"

"Not after she gives you a piece of her mind first."

"Well, I'm used to tuning people out."

"Really?"

"What?" Alley laughed as John playfully bumped her with his shoulder. After another happy sigh she said, "So what do you reckon we do now, Johnny?" John raised his eye-brows suggestively and Alley slugged him. "No! Not that! Mind out of the gutter ya dirty wanker!"

"I like the gutter," John said matter-of-factly in a posh tone. Alley couldn't help but laugh. She thought she heard the sound of the door sound and immediately froze up, staring at John with wide eyes. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't worry," he said. "Mimi isn't home. Went to visit some cousin for the night or some fuckin' thing like that."

"Either way-we should go," Alley said with a frown of mock sadness. "Real world fuckin' calls."

"Fuck the real world!"

"I agree," Alley said, pouting. She groaned again and buried herself deeper into the pillow. "I don't wanna fucking go!"

"We have to," John said. Then a wide, mischievous grin spread across his face. He flipped over suddenly, grabbing Alley and stopping until he was leaning over her, one arm under her back. "But first-we could have some fun…."

Alley's grin matched his. "'Whole Lotta Shakin' Gonna On', huh?"

"Something like that."

"Well….I guess the real world could wait 10 minutes."

John raised his eye-brows. "_10 _minutes?"

Alley laughed. "Fine-15?"

John cleared his throat this time. Alley couldn't help but laugh louder.

"All right, all right," she said with a giddy laugh. "I guess the real world can wait- 45 minutes."

John growled playfully and with a fit of giggles, Alley disappeared under the covers with him, temporarily forgetting about the problems that awaited them outside their private little world.

…

Cassidy sat at the piano bench in the McCartney's house, running her fingers over the ivory keys and savoring the delicacy of antiques. She pressed down lightly, the hum of sound rushing past her ears and sending a chill down her spine. It had been a long time since she'd last played, and she hardly remembered any songs off the top of her head. Only bits and pieces, strung together in her mind with their one common factor.

"I didn't know you played."

Cass stopped abruptly, her fingers still caressing the keys as the notes faded away in to the air. She looked back, seeing Paul leaning against the doorway that led to the kitchen. "There's a reason for that," she responded with a small smile, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that they were, somehow, still stuck in that strange area where they were just friends, but knew how deeply each felt.

"And that reason is…?"

He closed the distance between them, sitting himself down on the bench beside her and putting his hands next to hers. He didn't play, didn't nudge her out of the way. No, he seemed perfectly content to just be in her presence. Just that thought alone made Cass blush.

She let out a small tinkle of a laugh. "I'm terrible," she giggled, reaching up and pushing a lock of auburn curls out of her eyes.

Paul shook his head, his own smile adorning his full lips. "I'm sure you're not. You're good at everything."

Cassidy snorted. "Haha, just kidding."

"What?"

"What the hell am I good at? Besides, I dunno, fighting with everyone in my life."

He turned so that he was facing her, arching one eyebrow and glaring at her. "Are you shitting me right now?"

"No…"

"Cass, you have to realize what a fucking prize you are. I mean, honestly. For me to even be sitting here right now, with you in my house, makes me feel like the luckiest guy in the world."

Cassidy blushed bright red, looking down at her feet and not believing a damn word that was coming out of his mouth. "Oh, Paul McCartney. Whatta charmer."

Paul reached his finger forward, tipping her head up, and then cupping his hand around her chin so she couldn't look away from him. "I mean it."

She lightly shoved him away from herself, not wanting to hear this. The more he said such sweet things to her, the more she wanted to be with him. And though really, she trust Paul with her life, she wasn't ready to get close to anybody yet. He'd really helped her through her father's death, and just as she was starting to cope on her own, she couldn't dive into a relationship.

"Cassidy…you're funny and smart, beautiful and kind, brave and not afraid of showing who you are. I can read you like a book, yet I'll probably never figure you out." He laughed, just a hint of bitterness in it. "I feel like I could trust you with anything. And it hurts—really fucking hurts me, not just figuratively—to see you in pain."

Cass just sat there, stunned into silence, hardly daring to breathe a word. What the fuck WOULD she say, even if her entire body wasn't numb at this point? Instead, she just made this sort of choked gurgling sound, which lit her entire face and some of her neck scarlet.

And then there he was, leaning away. Like it was his damn occupation or something. His eyes—such a brilliant hazel—locked in on hers, and she just couldn't look away. His hand still held her firmly but gently by the chin, and if he let go her head would probably tremble right off her neck. Never before had he made her so knee-shakingly flustered.

"Tell me its okay," he whispered, his lips parting just before meeting hers. "Tell me this is what you want."

A deep shudder ricocheted throughout her body, just as she choked out one word: "Always."

His lips had barely met hers before—

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"PAUL? I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE, MACCA, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!"

It took Paul's body a moment to respond to the sudden change in atmosphere, as suddenly Cassidy pulled away and turned to face the piano again, her face still blood red. He closed his eyes, disappointment that the moment he had so carefully calculated was ruined.

"PAUL?"

"Alright, alright. I'm coming."

He walked across the room, pulling open the door slowly. But he had barely opened it before George came barreling through like he owned the place, a look of intense concern etched upon his face.

"Oh, hey Cass," he said to Cassidy's back. Then, he turned to Paul. "Paul, man. Did you hear? About Royce and Garrett?" His tone was panicked, frantic. It struck a note in Paul's chest, but before he could say anything Cassidy whipped around.

"What do you mean, Royce and Garrett? What the fuck is going on?"

George swallowed, noting the change in color of her face. She was abnormally red, and a quick glance at the disheveled Paul told him that he had interrupted something. "Uhh…" He was momentarily distracted by his thoughts.

Cass stood up, taking several quick, short steps toward him. "George? Did something happen?" Her voice rose a few octaves. "Is Alley okay?"

George snapped back into the conversation, shaking his head fervently. "What? Oh, God, yeah. I mean, I think so." He took a deep breath. "Okay, so, my mom heard from Mrs. Baker who heard from Betty Mae—you know, the street vendor on Penny?—that her cousin's husband's best mate's neighbor got shot last night."

Both Cass and Paul stared at him blankly. Paul cleared his throat.

"Kay…so…?"

"Don't you get it?" George asked wildly, his eyes darting from one to the other. "The neighbor is Royce! Garrett shot him cold last night!"

Cassidy's hand immediately hit her mouth with a solid clap, her eyes widening in disbelief. "No," she whispered almost inaudibly. One thought hit her mind: find Alley.

Paul blinked several times, digesting the news. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around it, the whole idea of it was too insane. Royce was gone? Out of Alley's life completely? There would be no more bruises, no more vacant looks, no more worried glances from Cassidy? And the sad part was, after Paul had finally consecrated the words to a solid thought, the only emotion he felt was…happy.

Before Paul or George could get another word out, however, Cassidy started towards the door. There was no explanation, no conversing on the possibilities. All Paul got was a hurried glance of apology over her shoulder, and a word: "A-Alley…"

And then she was gone.

…

It was near noon when Cassidy heard the news. At first, all she'd felt was the shock of hearing someone had died. And then, although it pained her to admit it, she felt a sick satisfaction. Almost as if Royce deserved what he got. But honestly? No one deserves to come to that sort of end; no matter how cruel, sick, and twisted they happen to be.

And then another rather horrifying thought came to her mind; Royce was somebody's father. Just like her father had been. Poor Garrett, he was in the same situation that she and Cecilia had been in only two short months earlier, when they'd first heard the news about Da.

It was only later, after a visit with George and Paul, that Cass realized that Garrett wasn't beside himself with misery. Ha, she even doubted that he had any remorse at all. It was HE who had done it, he who had pulled the trigger. How could you do that to your own father? Was it possible that Garrett felt just as mistreated as Alley was physically? Could Royce have abused Garrett, too-mentally, though?

Thoughts like these ran through Cassidy's mind as she wandered the streets, trying to clear her mind and think of what to do. It was only when she passed by an old abandoned playground-one that she passed by so many other times in her childhood-that she really stopped, gathered herself, and focused on the situation. She had to find Alley, had to confirm the rumors, had to find out what was really happening behind the scenes. Everyone knows there are multiple sides to every story: what happened, what sort of happened, what people THINK happened, just a totally twisted version that halfway resembles what happened, and the truth. Alley had the truth. That's why Cass turned into the playground, making her way all the way back to the clump of trees that half-concealed a large wooden frame that levitated about halfway up a tall, thick oak tree.

"ALLEY!" Cassidy called up, her face angled skyward. "You up there?"

Alley heard her name being called and she got up onto her knees-she had been lying on the floor of the half-rotted treehouse- and looked out of the dirty window. Down below, at the bottom of the tree on which the treehouse resided stood Cassidy. She was staring up at the treehouse, trying to look inside from her place on the ground. Cass had a look of concern on her face; concern for Alley and her well being. Surely, the news of Royce's death had spread and Cass, being the good friend she was, wanted to make sure she was all right.

Alley moved away from the windows and leaned against the wall. Did she really want to have this conversation right now? If Alley made her presence known then Cass would come up into the treehouse. Cass would carefully talk to her, making sure not to set off the ticking time bomb that Alley surely had turned into now. Then Cass would ask her about Royce, ask her if she knew what really happened to him. Could Garrett have really killed him? What would make him do it? Do you know anything, Alley? Surely, those would be only a few of the questions she would be asked. It's not like she hadn't gone through it with the police, over and over again until she was sure she could say the answers in a dead sleep. She just did not want to have that conversation right now.

But on the other hand, she needed a friend. She had been sitting up in this treehouse all morning, hiding out from the world. The treehouse didn't provide her much asylum though, all she could think about was Royce and the scene that had unfolded right before her eyes. It was definitely the material for someone's worst nightmares. She could use someone to talk to, someone to lean on. Cass was always to be counted on for that. And she was there, calling up to her, wanting to help her.

Alley sighed cursed silently. In the end, she would always do the right thing. Pushing open the door that led into the treehouse, she poked her head through and called down to Cass. "I'm up here!" She moved away from the door, back to her place against the wall, waited for Cass to come up and the questions to start.

Cassidy moved towards the wooden pegs that became a sort of makeshift ladder in the tree, climbing steadily and tossing her thoughts around in her head. She remembered herself, in this very position-okay, maybe slightly different, but mostly the same-and remembered how all she wanted was someone to wrap their arm around her and talk her through it. Was that what she should do for Alley?

No. She knew this somehow, without a doubt. If there's one thing you learn by being best friends with someone your entire life, it's that sometimes they just want to be left alone, and sometimes they want your love and friendship. Alley wasn't one to be the huggy, mushy, gushy, I-love-you-so-much type, and Cass knew that. That was why when she finally reached the top of the ladder, cautiously slid on to the creaky, slightly soggy wooden boards, and scooted towards her friend, Cassidy didn't make a sound. She simply sat there, hands folded neatly in her lap, back resting against the wooden wall.

She refused to be the first to speak. When Alley wanted to talk, when she was good and ready, she would open her mouth and let out a stream of whatever the hell she was feeling. Even Cassidy, an Alley-reading master, couldn't pinpoint exactly what her best friend was feeling at the moment, so she just gave it a little time. Let her answer the questions she didn't want to ask.

Alley was well aware of her best friend's form beside her. For a few seconds, she just stared straight ahead, letting the silence wash over the both of them. Cass wouldn't start the conversation and Alley knew that. She would have to say something sooner or later but she wasn't going to just pour out her feelings either. Christ, she didn't even know what she was feeling in the first place. Closing her eyes and taking a breath, she finally turned to Cass and said,

"Well, fuck."

That really seemed to say it all.

Cassidy nodded slowly, her eyes sliding out of focus as she stared straight ahead of herself. "That's pretty much what I was thinking."

"Yeah," Alley said, still not looking her best friend directly in the eyes. "I guess I can't say anything that you haven't already heard. Fuck pretty well covers it, I reckon."

Cass swallowed. That meant it was true, all of it. Royce, Garrett, the gun...all of it. Cassidy closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall with a hollow thump. "I'm so fucking sorry, Alley. And I know that it was Royce, and I know Royce was Royce, but it sucks. I know. Trust me, I know."

"Sure, it sucks," Alley said, nodding and swallowing away the memory of seeing Royce killed in front of her. She attempted smiling and shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. "But hey- on the bright side, I won't have to wear long sleeves to hide the marks anymore!" The words that were meant to be light and sarcastic came out hard and bitter.

"It's not funny."

Cassidy didn't mean to sound so...hollow, you could say, and her tone turned out to be harsher than she intended. But honestly, Alley couldn't make a joke about everything.

Alley finally locked eyes with her friend, her eyes blazing with a strange fire. "I wasn't laughing, Cass."

Cassidy slowly reached up, rubbing her hands over her face. "Listen," she began, her tone lower than usual. "I know you're not gonna wanna hear this, and I KNOW this is just about the last thing you wanna talk about, but what really happened last night? Huh? Because something just doesn't add up right to me about this whole...situation."

And there it was.

Alley felt something go through her entire body-almost like a lightning bolt striking her. She turned away, so that Cassidy couldn't see her face, and tried to calm her breathing. She didn't want to, she wasn't going to! Cass was her best friend and usually best friends tell each other everything, but Alley couldn't. The words were there-she had been going through the whole story in her mind all morning (and not the story she told the police, the real and true story)- but she couldn't force them out. She instead chose to focus her eyes on the engravings on the wall across from them, one of the many designs her and Cass had scratched in over the years. She figured that if she didn't speak, Cass would stop asking.

Cassidy was unlike her best friend in a few major ways, but one way was extremely noticeable to almost everyone who talked to the pair of them; Cassidy ALWAYS had something to say. Whether it was meaningful and deep, funny and witty, or just flat out stupid and something that she really should have just kept inside her head and not said at all, there was always something at the tip of her tongue, her mouth always halfway open and ready to go. Alley, on the other hand, was very much the opposite. And while it seemed that the two of them could never get along, it was really quite a steady relationship. Cassidy talked, Alley listened. Alley was silent, Cassidy watched. They understood each other perfectly, even if it was in two different ways.

And so now, when Alley was being so quiet, Cass knew it was because usually SHE was the one with an issue, SHE was the one who needed to talk. And talk, she did. But when Alley didn't say anything (absolutely nothing at all), Cassidy knew that this was when she was saying the most.

"You're really upset about this," she acknowledged when Alley didn't answer her previous question. "Aren't you?"

"No actually," Alley said, turning to her friend once more. "I'm quite happy. I'm a fucking ray of sunshine!" Her voice was deadpan and sarcastic with a bitter edge.

Cass rolled her eyes, ignoring her tone. "You realize that if you don't talk to anyone, they're never gonna know what you're feeling. And if you don't tell them how you really feel, you'll never get any better." She stopped, a rather bitter thought occurring to her. "But you've told John, haven't you? You were with him, right?"

Alley shut her eyes, internally cursing the situation. She couldn't keep her mouth shut now that Cass was starting to speculate. And maybe Cass was right about one thing-it was good to get feelings out sometimes. It would make her feel better, even though it would kill her to admit it. If she could confide in Cass, then it meant that she didn't have to carry it alone. And if she didn't have to carry it alone then she would be able to keep a small shred of her sanity. After a long, exaggerated exhale, Alley said,

"You can't tell anyone, Cass. It _never _leaves this treehouse. Understand?"

Despite telling herself to shut up, bubbles of worry started erupting in her stomach. The way Alley's body language read, there was something serious behind all her sarcastic comments and cryptic messages. She bit her lip, thinking about the phrase 'ignorance is bliss' and how well it applied here. Did she really want to know? Without a doubt, she would keep Alley's secret, because God knows she'd kept enough for her.

"And John knows?" she clarified, raising her eyebrows, trying to divert some of the tension. "About...whatever it is?"

"John was there," Alley said, looking down at her hands twisting in her lap.

John was there. Of course John was there, because if Alley was there, John sure as hell was there. Duh. Cassidy bit her lip once again, shaking her head slowly. "I promise not to tell anyone, Alley. But..." In her mind, she had a comment about John all ready and cued up, ready to spit at her friend in a way that was probably going to earn her some verbal abuse. But she stopped herself, instead letting the word trail off until it was nothing, until she was sure Alley didn't think anything of it. Then, when she was ready for Alley to continue, she nodded firmly.

"Just keep your mouth shut while I explain," Alley warned, her voice low and whispery. "Don't say one word until I'm done, got it?"

Cass nodded, her gaze turning serious.

Alley nodded and after taking a long breath in and exhaling it slowly, began her tale of the night before. She explained everything in great detail in the hushed tone of hers. She told Cassidy how Royce was going to burn her on the stove and then how John rushed in to help her. She explained how Royce was going to hurt them and how Alley tried to stab him but nothing happened. And then, with a bit more effort, she told Cassidy how Garrett showed up and shot Royce like it was nothing. Alley ended her story with how Garrett made her and John leave so it would look like no one but Garrett was there. When she was finished, she didn't look at Cassidy, but instead chose to look at her hands once more. Her hands were twisting each other with such force that her knuckles were white.

Cassidy wasn't really sure what to say. She sat there in stunned silence for a good five minutes, her mind struggling to comprehend what, exactly, Alley had gone through the previous night. When she finally did speak, her voice came out gruff, heavy, almost as if these things had happened to HER, not Alley.

"You and John had sex."

Cass was not really sure where these words had come from, and she was only really aware of thinking that they might be a possibility for a nanosecond, before remembering that there were more important issues at hand. But there it was, and before Alley even confirmed or denied it, Cassidy knew it to be true. Not that she was all-knowing in these matters or anything, but she could tell by the flicker on Alley's face.

She let out a breath. "Garrett shoots Royce cold, and you and John go and bump uglies by his command. Fuck. What a night."

Alley tried to keep the smile off her face but couldn't. It was a serious matter- Royce being killed by Garrett- but Cass' reaction and the memory of the night before made her smile. She knew she couldn't deny it because Cass already knew it was true. So instead of going through the whole pomp and circumstance of denying and then being forced to tell the truth, she nodded.

"Okay look," Alley said, turning to Cass. "It was not like that in the first place. Garrett told us to leave and not to come back until morning. It was not by John's command. It just-happened." Alley turned her face to the side and mumbled under her breath, "Three times."

"Fucking hypocrite," Cassidy muttered under her breath, remembering her ONE time, and how much shit she had gotten for it. Of course, she was considerably younger. But it wasn't like she was eight years old, and it wasn't like she had done it three times in one night, either. She wasn't a hoe, like some people she knew.

"I knew you were going to say that."

She let out a brief chuckle, knowing the gravity of the situation wouldn't allow anything more than that. And as soon as the moment of humor was over (God, it reminded Cassidy of old times, before there such things as cancer and John Lennon and guns in their lives), Cassidy felt that worry start to bubble in her stomach again. She knew how Alley was, all secretive and dark and unhealthy in those ways, and she didn't want something to happen that would completely break Alley down. Because if there was one person that knew it better than anyone else, Cass knew that Alley was always teetering on the edge of a break down. It had to happen. A person can't take THAT much, and be completely fine with it.

That was why Cass scooted closer to her friend, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and drew her into her chest. She didn't say anything, just resting her head against the glossy top of Alley's.

And for once, Alley didn't move but instead welcomed the compassion and warm gesture from her best friend. Inside, she felt the cold block around her heart start to crack.

…

It was only Paul and John that day in Paul's house. Paul's dad and brother had gone out somewhere for the day and even though they were practicing, the house was eerily quiet. Or...at least they were supposed to be rehearsing. John was having trouble concentrating on the music. He kept plucking the wrong strings or singing the wrong part. After the fifth time of screwing up, he put his guitar down and plopped into the brown overstuffed chair with a sigh.

Paul froze, his fingers still firmly pressed into the frets of his guitar. He slowly looked up, where John was being moody (nothing new) very openly (definitely new). "Er...John? How ya doin' mate?" Paul wasn't stupid; he knew that John would be upset about this whole Royce thing-he himself didn't really even know what to think of it-but John had HATED the bastard.

John looked up at Paul, thinking of telling him what was really going on in his mind. But what could he say exactly? _Oh, well gee Paul, I saw Royce get killed in front of me and then I went home and slept with Alley. _He couldn't very well say that now could he? Instead, he decided to go with the easiest lie in the book. He sighed deeply, rubbed his eyes and said,

"I'm fuckin' tired."

"Up late, were ya?" Paul asked hesitantly, knowing from past experiences that sometimes John DID wanna talk about his behavior, and sometimes he didn't, pretending that he didn't do everything that the rumors said he did. "Hmm?"

John would usually offer his nightly experiences with a smile but today, he just shrugged nonchalantly. "I reckon I was."

Since Paul had become better friends with Alley, he was starting to feel a flicker of annoyance whenever John mentioned other girls. Both because he knew how strongly Alley liked John, and because he knew that John didn't give two shits about those other girls. Only about Alley. And he should own up to that soon, or he would lose her. Of that, Paul was sure.

"Fuck, man, I thought you were gonna stop doin' that. Now that you've been spending so much time with Alley and all." He shook his head, a slight scowl forming on his full lips, and caressed the strings of his guitar smoothly.

"I never said it was another girl," John said in a low voice. And then with a scowl of his own, he wagged a finger at his friend. "And don't fucking judge me, Macca. Like you're any better!"

Paul's face dropped. "Don't accuse me of that, because you know I don't sleep around now that I'm with Cass. Because unlike you and Alley, we're together. Together, together. At least...I think." He shook his head, clearing the thought away, and focused on John's words again. "Anyways, what do you mean, you weren't with another girl? Don't lie to me, Alley would never..." He let his voice trail off. Alley wouldn't...would she? Fuck, maybe she did.

John had no expression on his face. His voice was even. "She did." He expected Paul's shocked expression but he didn't say anything.

_She did_. Well, damn. Apparently Paul wasn't THAT great a judge of character, because he didn't think Alley would put out for a bastard like John in a million years, no matter how much she liked him. "Well...oh. Okay."

John couldn't help feeling a bit hurt at Paul's expression. Was Alley not good enough for him? Was he some lower form of human? Maybe he did sleep around. He was never one for relationships, it was a known fact. But John did not see Alley has a one night stand or just another good time. He truly cared for her and had feelings for her. And the fact that Paul was looking at him like that made him feel like he was lower than dirt.

"What?" was all he asked, not wanting to say much else. He kept his expression stoney and indifferent. "I can see it on your face. Don't fucking think of Alley like she's less now."

"Did I say anything?" Paul asked, his eyebrows raised. "Did I say she was just another one of your whores?"

John shook his head. No, he hadn't. "But you thought it, Paul," he said. "Now you don't fucking lie to me."

"I was thinking," Paul said slowly, trying to word his thoughts so that John didn't beat the shit out of him, "that if this ever gets out-no matter WHAT people previously thought about her-she's going to be considered just that."

John felt the anger leave him then, knowing it was true. People could be horrible. And a rumour like this would really hurt Alley. And it wouldn't be his fault either. The girl always got blamed and labeled in situations like this. He sighed, shaking his head and not quite making eye contact with Paul.

"I know," he said with another long sigh. "But it happened."

Paul looked down at his hands, understanding. Completely, one hundred percent understanding. He just didn't want Alley to go through what Cassidy did because of him.

"Nothin' can be fuckin' done...or undone."

"You don't even really sound happy about it," Paul said quietly, his eyes still cast downward. "At least don't regret it."

"I don't," John said, meeting his friends gaze. And it was entirely true. He was happy and he would never in a million years want to take back what he and Alley did the night before. But how could he explain to Paul that what really was causing his mood was the fact that he saw a man killed right in front of him. He couldn't. Ever. "I just have other things on my mind," he finally said.

"Other things," Paul repeated, nodding slightly. "Right, okay." He strummed a little bit, his fingers cascading over the frets of his guitar, and thought over John's comments. And how he couldn't exactly play right now. "You can go if you want," he said, returning to that quiet tone.

John thought about that for a few seconds. He then stood up abruptly and grabbed his guitar, heading for the front door quickly. Before he was completely out of the room, he stopped and turned. "Don't stress, Macca. I'll be fine."

And then he was gone, the sound of the door banging shut resonating through the empty house.

Paul dropped his guitar finally, using it as somewhat of a security blanket. He dropped his head, letting it fall into his palms and rest there. He took a deep breath, calming himself, and tried to remember a time when things weren't so God damned complicated. When he hadn't had to worry about sex and abuse and death and girls who caused so much damn drama.

When music was his life, not stress.

…

Cassidy's mother's description of life after her father: Difficult, but the family is able to cope by pulling together and uniting. Everyone is being strong, resilient even though it would be so much easier to break down and hide away from the world. Cecilia and Cassidy are being angels, keeping up their stellar grades and apt social lives. Her? She was just trying my best, rolling with the punches. Really, all she wants is to provide a safe place where the girls can come talk to me if they want. You know, so they don't feel like they're alone. All she wants is for the family to return to normalcy, but, of course, to never forget Ian. He was truly a remarkable man…she sees a lot of him in Cassidy, actually. It makes her miss him and love her all the more. (Insert sweet, loving smile here.)

Cassidy's description of life after her father: In one word? Heartbreaking. Her family fell apart at the seams, seeing as the only thing that was holding them together before was her father. Now that he was gone, there was no buffer between her and her mother. No one to even look twice at Cassidy, no one to actually think she belonged in the family. Her mother's main focus in life, her sole reason for living, appeared to be split down the middle; one side for Cecilia, the other for booze. Not that she ever drank outside of the house, or did it openly in front of the two girls. God forbid precious Cecilia learned of her new alcohol habits. But Cass knew, and Cass saw. And she had to cover for her mother plenty of times, hiding the bottles and making up excuses. She wanted them to seem like the normal family they once were on the outside. She wanted everything her mother told her friends to be true. She wanted to have actual good news to report to Alley every once in a while, not just made up things. She wanted their family to heal, to get better, but she knew it never would if her mother kept it up.

Either way, both women behaved normally in the outside world, going about their business and trying to keep a straight face for the people around them. But when they came home, the layers of makeup were shed, and the lights were turned off, it was Cass that got a sound night's sleep.

Her mother lay awake, wondering what her life had been like if she hadn't taken a step this way, or a step that. Sometimes she cried, thinking about the husband that was her world entirely. And other times, she wished. Simply lay there, staring up, wishing for the same strength that her daughter was blessed with.

And then she would cry some more, knowing she could never have that.

...

The house was too quiet, Alley thought as she sat there at the rickety kitchen table. It unnerved her. Usually, there was a bunch of different kind of sounds going through the house whether it be Alley's music or Royce's angry ranting or snoring when he had passed out drunk and even….the sound of one person getting beat on by another. And even when the house was quiet, there was always tension crackling in the air. You always had to step lightly as if walking on egg shells, trying to make sure that Royce wouldn't hear you. If he did, it always meant there was going to be hell to pay, no matter if you did something or not.

But now the quietness in the house was different.

The tension was gone, there would be no one jumping out from a corner, ready to pummel you or hurt you. The house was even peaceful now. One would be expected to feel happy about this but Alley couldn't bring herself to feel complete joy at the moment. She was happy, somewhere inside, mostly because of the time spent with John, but also because she could live her life without worrying about whether or not Royce would get so mad he'd kill her. She didn't have to deal with that anymore and it did make part of her feel truly happy and free. But she still couldn't bring herself to feel it fully. She couldn't get over the fact that she had seen Royce get killed right in front of her eyes. She would have to go through another funeral, watch as they lowered Royce into the ground forever. She was surprised when she felt a bit of happiness when thinking that. It was a horrible thing to happen to anyone; no one deserved to die like that. But Royce had spent his life making hers a living hell and she couldn't help but feel happy that it wasn't going to be like that anymore. But most of all, she couldn't believe that she was sitting across from the very person who killed his own father.

Garrett sat across from her at the kitchen table, staring straight ahead. He looked like he was going through something internally—and who wouldn't, after killing their father?—and he hadn't said two words since he was released from jail. The police questioned Alley extensively when she finally came home from John's house, asking her about life with Royce and what would make Garrett do something like that. Alley answered as honestly as she could without letting it known that she was actually there when Garrett killed Royce. Between her answers and Garrett's, plus her mother's tearful statement about what a good boy Garrett was, the police had let him go.

Royce's murder was decided to be a clear cut case of self defense. No lawyers, no trial; nothing. Alley figured it was the Liverpool police's way to dodge all the information that would come out about Royce should there have been a trial. Royce was seen as a good citizen in good old Liverpool and it seemed like hearing how much of a drunken abusive bastard he was wouldn't go over to well with some of the people. It was ironic how Royce was seen as such a good man yet the police didn't want to do everything they could to put his murderer away and get justice for his death. It seemed to be simpler to wave it off as self-defense (which, in truth, it was) and let it drop there. Alley didn't care either way. Whether she liked it or not, Garrett had saved her and John from whatever Royce would have done to them. But it also didn't change the fact that she saw Garrett in a whole different light now and that he scared her.

"Are you okay, dears?"

Alley looked up at her mother and smiled as best as she could. Her mother had been out of the house when Royce attacked her and John. Alley thought she was alone with Royce but now she figured that Garrett had been upstairs in his own room and must have heard Alley screaming and things breaking. Before Alley knew it, she was staring at a dead Royce and Garrett holding a gun. She was glad her mother hadn't been there to witness her husband die. Even though, Alley was pretty sure, there was no love in their relationship. Alley's mother had been lonely when her first husband—Alley's father—had left them and she felt that she needed a man to take care of her and be a new father to Alley. Royce, Alley figured, just wanted slaves to boss around and do things for him. Despite the obvious grief her mother was sure to be feeling, Alley could see the look in her eyes. It was freedom and hope for the future to come. And for the first time, Alley noticed that her mother wasn't drunk or zoned out on some medication. Without Royce, she was already getting better.

"I'm fine, Mom," Alley said, her voice just above a whisper, offering a small smile. Alley's mom sat between her and Garrett. They all tried not to look at the empty seat on the other side of the table.

Garrett spoke now, his slight accent coming through stronger than usual. It often did when he was nervous. "What happens now?"

Alley's mother smiled wistfully and put a hand over each of theirs. "It will all be all right, children." Garrett smiled gratefully at that and then put his head down on the table. She stroked his head gently.

She wasn't treating Garrett any different either; the truth was, he had saved the whole family albeit in a horrible way. In truth, Alley's mother had been more of a mother to Garrett than his real mother ever had. When she wasn't completely drunk, her way of coping with living with Royce, she was always fussing over Alley and Garrett. When Alley and Garrett were younger and Royce used to beat on both of them, Alley's mother would always make sure Garrett was all right. And she could tell that Garrett loved and appreciated her. Alley and Garrett's relationship was somewhat different. They didn't really love each other, they often didn't like each other but there was something there. They protected each other when necessary and did have some kind of unspoken appreciation for each other.

The only thing that scared Alley now was Garrett's mental state or what it could turn into. Killing another human being, especially one that happened to be your own flesh and blood, had to do wonders on your mind. Alley could see clearly that Garrett was already riddled with guilt and pretty soon, he'd be tearing himself up inside. He was already no stranger to the bottle and Alley had a feeling that he would be coming better friends with it in the coming months. She could only pray that he wouldn't go crazy and turn into the second coming of Royce.

But she couldn't tell the future; no one was capable of doing that. One thing was for sure, life would be drastically different now. Not just for her family either but for all of her friends—John, Paul, Cass, George. And maybe it would be for the better. Maybe all of the tragedies they went through would only make them stronger in the end. It could only go up from here.

Alley's mother lifted Garrett's head, making him look at her. She smiled at both of her children, one biological and the other not, and patted their hands once more.

"It will be all right now," she said again, her belief of the statement showing on her face, in her eyes.

"Yes," Alley said, a true smile appearing on her face. She looked from her mother to Garrett and then back to her mother again. "It will."

…

**Catie AN: Now, look down. Are your pants still there? In three out of every four cases, after reading this chapter pants were blown not just off, but ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE FUCKING ROOM. As were yours. Unless you weren't wearing any pants to begin with. In that case...Addie?**

**Addie AN: I'm sure everyone's pants were blown off. Probably blown to bits by this chapter. It was pretty, oh what's the word? Umm...uh...oh yes... kick-ass.**

**Catie AN: Just shut up. Guys, I have a serious fucking problem. Like, this is an issue of epic proportions. Well, actually, there are two. The first actually applies to me and Addie, seeing as we both keep killing off our characters. Name one person in this story with both parents (besides George). And you can't, because we've killed them. And two...I'm just not funny anymore. In a great compliment to myself, I used to love my humor. Like, take a look at this little AN post from chapter 2:**

**(and I wasn't gonna say anything about John, but just to spite Addie…John is a fugly egomaniac who can go eat his fucking corn flakes at the bottom of my well, for all I care.)**

**That's some quality shit right there. Addie? What say you?**

**Addie AN: Well, Catie, as rarely as this happens, I agree with you. First of all, we must have some deep-seated, subconscious problem with killing off parents. Why is that? And I semi-agree about the humour. I mean, we got our funny bits still, here and there. Just not as frequent as before. This story is making us more and more serious with each chapter. I'm not sure if that's good or bad...? Maybe we should have one fluff chapter. Like, one chapter in a happy, fantasy dream world with lollipops and rainbows and...**

**Ew. No. Maybe not. Oh well. Face it. In Spite has turned us serious and morbid.**

**Catie AN: Yeah. If we DID have a chapter where everything was nice and dreamlike and like other, less depressing stories, the person who was dreaming would wake up at the end and die from spontaneous combustion or some shit. I don't care if that makes me a morbid person. That's life, yo.**

**Because people spontaneously combust all the time.**

**Addie AN: Now that's true. I think we both are the same in that nothing in our stories can ever be happy. There has to be death and someone getting beat up and all that fun stuff. You are right. Tis life. Oh and hey... I've noticed something in this chapter. Oh My God. No- it cannot be true! GASP!**

**Catie AN: Fuck you, now I want to know.**

**Addie AN: Well of course you do. Sigh. With deep regret I inform you that we, aren't even funny in our ANs anymore. We are talking. Seriously. No insults. This is scary. **

**Catie AN: And this is where our readers find out that we are real people who can actually hold a conversation without the word 'dickbrain' or 'John Lennon is a fag' coming up. And that we DON'T secretly love each other but hate on each other all the time, we just insult each other because that's what feels good in ANs. **

**It's a sad, sad world, isn't it?**

**Addie AN: Ahh yes. Alas, we are real people. I guess it's finally time for our readers to find out. Truly a sad world.**

**But... come on. For old time's sake? :P**

**Catie AN: Penisface. **

**Addie AN: Surely, you can do better than that lame remark. What are you, like 14 or something? Oh. Wait. That explains it.**

**Catie AN: ****Horsedickface. By the way, I don't know if all you friendly folks at home realized it or not, but this has become our longest chapter and longest BY FAR ending ANs. Sooo...therefore...you must all review because we've just reached 100 (fuck yeah) and we would like more. Loveyoubyeandreview!**

**Addie AN: Yeah. What she said. Review because you know we feed off of it!**

**Oh. And. John Lennon. That's how you spell gorgeous. Uh-uh. Yeah. Later.**

**Catie AN: Haha jk.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Catie AN: WHAT UP BITCHEZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ? **

**Addie AN: YES! Hello out there in the wonderful world of fan fiction! I bet you were all wondering where we went and why we were taking so long with this next chapter. You probably were all crying and sitting by your computers, holding a box of Kleenexes and waiting anxiously for our next update. Right? Right? Well, don't stress then, cause here we are...**

**Catie AN: Here? Is that what I'm supposed to say? IS IT, ADDIE? IS IT? Oh, no, wait, I read that wrong. Okay read the chapter byeee!**

...

They say that a lot can change in the course of a couple of years.

Hell, it was true.

The once quiet lives of a few of Liverpool's teenagers had irrevocably changed and would never go back to the way they were. Relationships changed, people had moved to new homes, people left the country, some lives had gotten better and some had stayed the same although hanging somewhere between normalcy and strangely comfortable.

Alley felt she had been given a second chance after Royce had died—or rather, after Garrett killed him. Not only a second chance for herself, but for her mother and also for her step-brother Garrett. It was as if God looked down upon her family and handed them the key to the door that led into a whole new life; a different and happier life. Alley couldn't have asked for anything better. It was nice to live without worrying about who was going to jump out at you and beat you down for no reason. Her mother was even happier, like any other mother on the street. Garrett was always the same, albeit less tortured, and was hardly ever heard or seen. When he was there, he helped Alley's mother like she was his own. Alley couldn't have asked for anything better.

Cassidy was faring a little bit differently in the life department. Her house could hardly be called a home since her father died. Her sister Cecilia was always gone, hanging out at one place of ill repute after another. She always came home with the stench of alcohol and cigarettes trailing behind her as well as the air of sex encasing her like a bubble of vapidity. Their mother had become a different woman all together. She never showed it but Cassidy knew her mother drank in secret, the side effects were as clear as day. She treated their whole situation like a bad dream, like Cassidy's father didn't exist in the first place. Cassidy Farrell was like a ghost in her house but even stranger than everything that had changed her family, Cassidy liked the feeling.

Another change in the small lives of the teenagers of Liverpool was perhaps the one that was the biggest out of all of the changes. John, along with Paul and now George were in a band. At first when it was just John and Paul, they were still the Quarry Men; still practicing on porches or in backyards or anywhere they could find with decent acoustics. But band members came and went and for a while it seemed like the Quarry Men were just a bunch of school boys going nowhere. But on a dark Liverpool night, on an empty bus, little (or not so little since he shot up like a weed) George Harrison played his guitar for John, the only way he knew how. Soon, he was ushered into the band. The band shot up then; they were like a speeding comet heading towards the brightness of the sun. When they collided, they would explode over the earth like the brightest light ever seen. It was as if the addition of George had plunged them into the direction that would set their future forever.

Then there were, as changing times usually bring, new people added to the old circle of friends. Cynthia Powell, a beautiful blonde girl who studied art with John at college was now part of the group that only inhabited a few people in the past. John had fallen in love (and lust) with her and they were an item; practically inseparable. She was sweet and kind and never had a bad word to say to anyone. Stuart Sutcliffe, another student from the art college and one of John's closest friends, was brought around. He was the tall, dark and silently handsome type; a real Liverpudlian Elvis. He was beautiful and artistic and part of the band—even though he wasn't the world's greatest bass player. Lastly, the quiet, extremely good-looking Pete Best; son of Mona Best, the owner of the Casbah club where the band had played many a great gigs. He hardly spoke and when he did, you had to strain to hear him. Drums were his specialty and he sat, night after night, behind the great musical trio—John, Paul and George.

Hamburg. The band had been given the offer to travel there early the year before. John and the rest of them, never thinking of turning down an incredible offer such as this, packed up and were on their way. Months and months had gone by and the boys were still there in Hamburg, playing music until they couldn't anymore and then even more after that for good measure. It was all an attempt to make it in the music business. Letters were the only form of communication and even they were few and far between. And then, one day, the band slowly came back home. Little George was deported for being too young, Paul and Pete for tacking a condom to the wall and watching it burn. The others had no choice but to follow their disheartened band mates back to good old Liverpool. And now here they were, everyone, along with the new group additions, back together in the rainy city of Liverpool.

A lot had changed, yes. Was it for the better? Was everything going to be okay? Or would it all come crashing down again? The only answer lay ahead in the future and the only way to get there was to live, go through day by day and hope that it would all stay on the path of good.

…

The phone was ringing loudly, the shrill sound reverberating throughout the whole empty house. Alley was halfway up the stairs when it began to rang and was balancing a hot-ish plate with freshly made fish and chips in one hand and an open bottle of coke in the other. She was the only one home at the moment- Garrett was off with some friends or a girlfriend (who knew?) and her mother had gone out to run errands. Running as best as she could without spilling anything, Alley made it to her room, put down the plate and the bottle down on the dresser and rolled across the bed; ninja style. She landed on her feet and grabbed the phone, now slightly out of breath from her run and ninja bed roll.

"Yeah?" she breathed into the phone, wrapping the cord around her wrist and leaning against the slightly open window. It was a clear day, for once, and the sun was actually making an effort to out of the clouds.

"_Alley?"_

"Nope. Queen of England."

"_Fuck off," _the voice on the other end said with a chuckle. _"Are you comin' tonight with Cass or what?"_

Alley searched her mind, trying to remember what was going on that night. She turned around, her eyes landing on the calendar. _Oh right! _John and the band were playing at the Cavern tonight! It was their welcome back from Hamburg show and it was supposed to be a big deal. Cass, in anticipation of seeing Paul again, decorated the date in Alley's calendar, complete with different coloured markers. You'd have to be blind not to see it. She grabbed the phone cradle, bringing it with her to the other side of the room so she could grab her lunch before it got cold. She took a long swig of coke and burped accidentally. John laughed on his side.

"Shut-up," Alley said and waited for him to stop laughing. "All right, I remember. Cavern. Tonight. Performance. Got it. I'll be there."

"_We go on at 8."_

Alley chuckled. "So I'll be there at nine, then." She and John shared a short laugh and then Alley asked,

"Are we all goin' together? Me, you, Cass and Paul I mean?"

"_I'm pickin' up Cyn. We're goin' together."_

Ahh. And there it was. Alley felt a pang of—something, she wasn't sure what exactly- inside and she didn't answer for a few seconds. John called her name twice before she came back down to reality. She shook her head and got her voice to come out properly.

"Right. I forgot." She forced some fake cheer and lightness in her voice. She hoped John didn't catch on. "See you there, then."

"_G'bye."_

Alley hung up, putting the phone onto the cradle and the cradle back on the night stand. She flew back onto her pillows, letting her breath escape from her in a long, exaggerated exhale. She had been in such a good mood before but now, at hearing John mentioning Cynthia's name. They had been going out for a long time now, Alley had come to terms with it and Cynthia was a nice girl. It still, after a few years, was hard for Alley to see John with someone who was not- her. She half-chuckled to herself thinking of how Cass would yell at her for saying this. Alley always denied that she liked John like that. And it was true, for the most part. Both were not girlfriend or boyfriend material- although it seemed like John was now. Alley saw her and John as kindred souls; friends with kind of benefits. The benefits included kissing and that one night, now seemingly like it was years ago, that he and Alley spent together. And sometimes, when John would come around to visit her or when she would go visit him (that part of their relationship hadn't changed-they still enjoyed each other's company) he would kiss her. Alley, knowing full well that it was wrong and felt bad for doing this to Cyn, welcomed these moments. Alley wasn't stupid either, she knew that John wasn't faithful to Cyn- in his letters from Hamburg, he had described some of the things he had seen. It wasn't hard to put it together. So, Alley wasn't the other woman. She was one of the other women. Either way, she'd just take what she could get.

"Okay," she said suddenly, sitting up. She looked at her own reflection in the mirror across from her bed. "You need to relax and get over it." Looking away from her reflection, she grabbed her lunch which to her dismay had gone cold and began eating it. She picked up her coke, staring at it.

She might need something stronger to get through this night.

…

Cassidy stood with her back to the stage, facing the bar that she was not allowed to visit, legally. She crossed her arms over her chest, her light blue dress ruffling softly as her skin brushed up against the fabric. John, Paul, and George had been playing for a while with their band, all three of them looking more at home and alive on the stage than they ever did in real life. Well, John and Paul did. George just looked petrified. Delighted, but petrified.

In truth, Cass felt a little lonely. Alley was so in love with John these days (not that she would show it, God forbid) that she felt like even when they WERE talking, her best friend's mind was in a much different, faraway place. Like John's bedroom.

She shuddered. Ugh. John having sex. A mental image she could do without.

All of a sudden, the club got quieter than it had been just seconds ago. Cassidy spun around, immediately suspecting the worse. However, all she found when she turned around was a nearly empty stage. George had perched on the side of the stage, his long legs dangling down into the sea of people. His guitar was cradled in his lap, and his face was free of that tense energy that had possessed it before. Stu stood in the back, as usual, with his shades on and a blank expression on his face. Pete was on his drums, no surprise, but he had taken off his black leather jacket and looked so much younger in just his plain white tee shirt.

John was standing center stage, free of instrument. The microphone was on its stand, propped up to John's height and looking a little bit lonely without Paul's mouth slobbering all over it.

Oh, microphone. If only you knew.

As soon as her eyes swept past John, he made eye contact with her. A sly smile slipped onto his face, and he stepped forward. Cassidy felt a sudden drop in the pit of her stomach, knowing that they had done SOMETHING and it was aimed towards her. That was when she realized why the stage looked so barren; Paul wasn't up there.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you'll please," John rasped, his voice sounding overused and battered. "I know this next one isn't exactly rock and roll, but who am I to stand in the way of young love?"

Oh, shit. Holy fucking goddamn shit.

That was when she felt the tap at her shoulder, and she turned around to find a bashful Paul blushing at her.

"Can I have this dance?"

She blinked once, twice. Her heart pattered along as he took her hand, allowing a shy smile to caress his lips. She'd love to see someone deny a face like that, honestly. It wasn't even fair sometimes.

Cassidy nodded, glancing down at her feet. It was like the first time they'd met all over again. Except now they weren't virgins and they had a little bit more to say in their conversations besides 'hi'.

He took her hand, weaving through the crowds and leading them right up to the stage, where John gazed down at them with an expression that could only be described as triumphant. As though he, Oh Holy John Lennon, was the sole reason that they were together.

She froze at the thought. So they were together? Officially? It never really WAS defined, but she supposed that they were.

"This one's for my dear little mates, Cassidy and Paulie," John said into the microphone, glancing one more time at the couple near his feet and then at the crowd as a whole. Most of them were scrambling to find partners; a few were already making their way out onto the dance floor, hand in hand with whomever they loved tonight. Still other sat at the bar, glaring at John and at Cassidy and Paul, and remind themselves that they were at the bar that night for a reason.

When the band struck up the first few chords of "Earth Angel" all of Cass's thoughts went blank. All she could see was Paul's sleepy, hazel eyes. All she could feel was him snaking his arms around her waist, then pulling her to him tight. All she could hear was her breath, swooshing in and out of her nose as she noted the magic of the situation.

"Only you," she whispered to Paul, reaching her hands up to wind around his neck.

"Only _for_ you," he corrected.

Cass's heart gushed at the cheesy line, and she just wanted to stand there swaying with him forever, locked in the embrace of her first love.

He leaned his head down, trying to close the gap between their lips, but Cassidy drew back slightly. "You've been away a long time," she mumbled, closing her eyes and letting herself sink into him.

"Mhmm."

"And we didn't exactly…clarify things before you left."

"Not exactly our faults."

"No, not exactly," she agreed, biting her lip. "But I have to wonder."

He stopped, casting a weary glance at her as he picked his head up from where it rested on hers. "Cassidy…do we really have to start this? Right here? Right now? You're right, it's been a long time since we've been together last. Can't we just make it special?"

He was right, no matter how much Cass wished he could be wrong. She was still suspicious of him, of course, but even if he had done things with other girls back in Hamburg…who the fuck cared? It's not like they were an item when he left, like she said. If he was with other birds, then he was with other birds. She couldn't change the past, and they didn't mean a thing to him, obviously.

She should probably just get used to it, if he was going to follow in the steps of His Highness John Lennon.

"Yes," she answered after a defined pause. "I'm sorry. It's just…"

"…been a long time," he finished, smiling back at her warmly. "God, I know. I've missed you."

And just like that, with those magic words, everything was fine. Hamburg? Where was that? Other…what? Girls? Please. There wasn't anybody in the world besides Cassidy Farrell and Paul McCartney.

"I've missed you, too," she said softly, the words seeming too honest and open for her to handle at the moment. The truth? That was an understatement. Cecilia and Mam had been acting particularly angelic lately, and Cass was about to burst. She missed confiding in George, having Paul to help her get though things. To help her get through EVERYthing, was more like it. And when there was no John around to distract Alley from the pain in her life, it made for a generally more depressed everybody.

He leaned in, gently pressing his mouth against hers. "_I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you_," he sang, ending the song along with John.

That just about did it. Before Cass knew what she was doing, she threw her body weight against Paul and melded herself into the form of his lips, just as George plucked out the final chords. She wanted that kiss to last forever, here in this club with hundreds of eyes on her. She could honestly care less.

"Paulie!" John's annoyed voice seemed to come down from heaven above. "I gave you your moment; now get your arse up here! We got another set to do, and I can't have the Sassmaster over here sucking your vocals right out of your throat."

His screeching laugh followed this, and Cass found herself torn away from Paul. Surely someone would have to surgically remove her arms after that kind of a kiss. But no, there was her Paulie, standing in front of her with a glowing smile plastered on his features. He was being pulled away by a grumpy looking Stu, but he kept his gaze locked firmly on hers.

The look on his face said it all.

"I love you, too!" she called, feeling giddy and happy and totally girlish, for once.

And that was the moment that she realized she could never, ever stop loving Paul McCartney.

...

Alley sat at one of the far tables, her back against the wall in the dark little Cavern club. Cass was sitting with her until Paul whisked her away to dance to a song that was specifically sung for her.

_Oh how fucking romantic!_

Alley downed her second-or was that third- rum and coke just as the dance ended and a happy-looking Cass made her way back through the throngs of darkly dressed people who were either smoking or drinking or making out with one another. Cass nearly skipped through the people, not minding when a heavy-set drunkard almost spilled the contents of his glass on her. Alley, on the other hand, almost wanted to throw up at the sickening display of romanticism and-love. Thankfully, she was alone at the table. Cynthia always hung around the stage while John performed and Alley was glad for it. She didn't think she could hold small talk with John's girlfriend while it felt like her heart was being stabbed with millions of tiny knives.

Looking at her now empty glass with disdain, she thought that pretty soon she would just have to ask for the whole bottle. Cass was nearing the table now and Alley pasted a smile onto her face. No point in alerting Cass, who would no doubt hound Alley until she either poured out her feelings or made it seem like everything was okay.

Cassidy couldn't help the smile that was plastered onto her face. She felt like a giddy preteen after her first kiss. Oh, Paul. He was SO romantic. And good looking. And talented. And all around, just a great guy. Except for that very minor mishap where he kissed her best friend and didn't tell her about it for like half a year. But that was in the past.

She approached Alley, who was taking a swig of whatever the hell she was drinking. It sort of looked like tar. When she sat down across from her, she could smell the booze on her breath. Cass crinkled her nose, shooting Alley a look. "Damn, Boozy, take a break every once in a while, will you?"

"Nonsense!" Alley said, waving her drink in Cass' direction. "I don't need a break. It's happy hour and I'm," she downed the last remnants of the drink and made a face, "happy!" It was total sarcasm on the last part and Alley didn't even attempt at hiding it.

Cass knew what was wrong. She wasn't _completely _unaware of everyone around her that wasn't Paul, you know. She licked her lips, leaning back in her chair and surveyed Alley. "He's a douche bag for doing that to you, you know."

Alley shook her head. She had heard this from Cass time and time again. It was beginning to get on her nerves. Looking down at her empty glass she said, in a monotone, "He didn't do anything to me. We weren't ever officially together."'

"He invited you here," she responded slowly, measuring out her words carefully to be sure that Alley wouldn't blow up on her. "He made sure you were coming. And if you didn't come, he would be pissed off. Has he even talked to you yet?"

Alley blew out an annoyed breath and looked up at her friend. Her words came out measure and precise. "He invited me here because I'm his friend. He made sure I was coming because I'm his friend. He's not the only one in the band. I'm friends with the others too." She stopped for a moment, looked towards the stage and then back to Cass. "Yes," she said, answering Cass' last question. "He called me when they arrived. We talked for a few hours." She gave her friend a sarcastic smile. "Happy, officer?"

"I meant while you were here. Because," Cass continued, raising her eyebrows and leaning forward a little bit, "even friends talk to friends when they invite them to something. I've already talked to George. And you wanna know why I've talked to George, who is my friend, and you haven't talked to John, who is your 'friend'? Because he's a douche bag."

"He fucking isn't," Alley said, giving her friend a half-angry glare. "For your fucking information, Cass, I did fucking talk to him when I got here. So don't go fucking assuming things. And how would you notice anyway? Aren't you stuck in your own little fucking world with Paul Mc-fucking-Cartney over there? Too busy wrapped up in your little whirlwind fucking romance to notice anyone else!" She picked up her empty glass and slammed it back down on the table. "Fuck! I need another drink!"

Cassidy rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up, another drink is the last thing you need."

"Says you," Alley said, rising. "I'm going to take a piss and then I'm gonna get another drink-perhaps 17 and then I'm going to jump off a fucking bridge!" Flashing Cass another sarcastic smile she disappeared into the crowd, getting lost in the sea of people.

Cass watched her best friend go, a horrible sinking feeling plummeting in her stomach. Sure, John had just done a really sweet thing for her and Paul, but it didn't help the fact that he was not being fair to Alley. She glanced over at Cynthia, whom she hadn't even been introduced to tonight but knew because Alley kept glaring at her.

Poor Cyn-she had no idea what she had just entered.

…

The Cavern was still buzzing with the energy that John and the boys had when they were up on stage, rocking and rolling and nearly bringing the house down once or twice. The crowd protested profusely and loudly when they played their last song of the set and were only half-consoled when they were promised the band would be back after a short break. This had been the welcome home performance for the band and it was a smash. But the boys were tired and sweat poured from their bodies like water rushing down from Niagara Falls. They were completely exhausted and needed the break, yes, but they were on such a high that not even the worst possible thing could bring them down.

After quickly putting their equipment away in one of the back rooms they were given for the night, the five met at the crowded bar and shared a shot. Most of them had drank a considerable amount already so really, what would one more shot hurt? They were laughing and pushing each other playfully. John had his arm around Cynthia who had just met him at the bar. He scanned the darkened room and smiled when his eyes finally located Alley and Cass. They sat at a table far in the corner. He walked towards the table, his arm never leaving Cynthia's shoulder and the other members in tow.

"Well, well," John said as they approached the table. He plopped into one of the empty chairs across from the two girls and gave them a grin that said 'I'm not totally drunk but I'm getting there.' "What do we have here?"

Alley looked up, squinting a bit and struggling to get the room to stop spinning. She was about to answer John but then saw him pull Cynthia onto his lap and decided against it. She just raised her glass to him instead and gave him a half-smile.

"Well, what we _had _here were two people, enjoying a drink and a halfway decent band. But now you're here, Lennon, so nothing can be enjoyed anymore." Cassidy raised her drink to him, a withering smile forcing its way onto her features. "Here's to you, asshole."

Alley pushed Cass' shoulder with her hand as if to say 'shut-up.' She took a deep breath and forced herself to look up and at least try and put on a semi-happy face. She looked at each member of the band, nodding to them as her gaze passed each one. Paul, George, Stu, Pete and...John. She tried her best to smile and hoped it looked half-decent.

John chuckled and threw back a drink. He shook his head and then grinned at Cass. "Miss Farrell, always a pleasure you are!" He had his hand around Cyn's waist and his face half-buried in her long blonde hair. "You girls know Cyn, right?"

"Hi," Cyn said, offering both girls a big smile.

Alley smiled (or grimaced rather) back and mumbled something that half-passed for a formal greeting.

Cass stared up at her, pausing for a moment to give her a once-over before offering up a sarcastic smile. "I've heard only the best," she hissed, casting a quick glance at Alley. How the HELL was she okay with this? Fuck...

Paul took a seat next to his girlfriend, wrapping an arm around the back of the booth seat she sat in and making himself as close as possible. "Not here," he whispered in her ear, a rush of alcoholic breath reaching Cass's nostrils. She pulled away from him sharply before settling back into her seat and crossing her arms.

"George, Pete, Stu, nice to see you." She allowed a short-albeit genuine-grin for both of them, but refused to meet John's eye. It didn't matter...he looked plenty busy with Cynthia the Great anyways.

Stu had been sitting at the table silently talking to Pete when he noticed Alley looking rather down. She was always chattering away or going on about one musical artist or another. But now she looked so sad and in pain. He followed Alley's gaze to John and Cynthia and immediately understood. Being so quiet all the time gave him an opportunity to listen. He had a sort of way of picking up on things that others didn't see. He reached across the table and lightly touched Alley's hand.

Alley looked up at Stu and immediately smiled, genuinely this time. She had taken a liking to him ever since the first day she met him. He smiled back and leaned forward, pushing his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose so his eyes could be seen.

"You all right, luv?"

Alley nodded and fought to keep the smile on her face. "Yeah. Thanks, Stu. I'm fine. Just...tired. Yeah. Tired."

Stu, knowing that she was lying, didn't push it. Instead, he offered her another smile before pushing his glasses up and turning back to Pete who was patiently waiting for him to come back to the conversation they had been having.

Alley turned to Cass and whispered bitterly, "Do you think it would hurt all that much if I asked for a fuckin' knife and then gouged my eyes out?|

Cassidy snorted, her arms still crossed tightly across her chest. She had been glaring at John and Cynthia ever since they had sat down, whilst Paul whispered a constant line of shit in her ear to try and sway her opinion. It had gone a little something like this:

"C'mon, Cass, be a big girl. Staring isn't nice. John's changed, I swear, this time I mean it. Cynthia's really done a number on him. Sure, he's slept with SOME women, but really not as many as he used to. And I know he wasn't exactly sparkling clear on bringing Alley and Cynthia here, but he didn't mean it that way, you know that. He was just trying to have the best of both worlds. Can't you understand that, just a little bit? Can't you be mad some other time? We were having such a nice night, and I haven't been here for so long. Honestly, Cassidy, it's getting a little weird-do you think they don't notice you looking at them? Cass...okay...you're mad, I get it, but really. He's changed. And you have no right to be mad, seeing as he didn't exactly do anything to you, just to Alley. That sounded bad. Cass...stop staring! You can't just-"

Finally, however, Cassidy had gotten a bit (little bit of an understatement) frustrated with his assault of defences and had interrupted, talking above all the mini-conversations going on at the table (John and Cynthia whispering sweetly to each other and giggling, Pete and Stu's serious exchange, Alley mumbling to herself about machine guns and throwing knives, the constant clatter of George's glass hitting the table as he took sips of his drink, and Paul's incessant mutterings). "SO. George, how was Hamburg? Meet anyone interesting?"

George opened his mouth to speak, but had to close it as nothing was coming out. "Y-yeah," he finally squeaked out, then turned a bright red.

John finally was brought back to the table then, looking around at everyone for the first time. He heard what Cass had asked George and upon seeing his friend turn brighter than a tomato, laughed loudly and clapped him on the back. "Little George here," John said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "is not pure anymore." He then burst into another bout of loud laughter and playfully slapped George again.

Nearly everyone's attention was caught at this little announcement. George, if it was possible, turned even brighter red and managed to put out a strained, crooked smile, which was shot down by Cassidy, whose jaw dropped a good three feet. Paul brought his hands to his face, vigorously rubbing it and cursing the demon who possessed his friend sometimes.

"What's the big deal?" Pete asked, staring blankly at the astounded Cassidy. "You were younger than him when you lost yours, so I hear."

Dead silence.

Cassidy looked at him, trying to form words in her mind but coming up with just about nothing. How dare...who did he think...what the...

"We don't talk about that," Paul said after a long pause, shooting daggers at Pete. Normally, he didn't mind the dim-witted guy, but sometimes he wanted to throttle him with his own tie.

"Well, you talk about it all the time!" Pete laughed, elbowing Stu-whose mouth had formed a near 'O' shape-in the ribs. "Don't he?"

Stu, more than a little bit stunned, could do nothing but nod dumbly. But a look from Paul made him suddenly feel bad. It wasn't his business so he was going to stay out of it. "Hey," he said with a chuckle to ease the mood, "It's all in the past. What's it matter now?"

_A hell of a whole lot, _Alley thought to herself. She sneaked a glance at John who was saying something back to Stu. It had been a long time since that one night she had with John but she simply couldn't get it out of her mind and even more so when she saw him with Cynthia. Something she could have had. Maybe if she wasn't so stubborn or so afraid of feeling any sort of emotions, she might be sitting in John's lap and not Cynthia. But Stu was right; it was all in the past and it didn't matter anymore. She took a long drink from her glass and then offered a still embarrassed George a comforting smile.

"I think a change of subject is in order," Alley mumbled dryly, looking into her glass and feeling disappointed that it was once again empty. She seriously had been about to ask for the whole bottle but Cass stopped her.

"Right," John said, talking to the group but his eyes mainly focused on his girlfriend. He was subconsciously playing with her golden hair and twisting strands around his fingers. "So then, did you like the show?" He turned his gaze to Alley at that moment and she felt herself freeze for a moment.

"Oh, um, yeah," she said in mumble. She forced herself to relax and made her voice come out steady-or as steady as it could sound in her drunken state."It was great. Really...um...great." She looked to her best friend. "Right?"

Cassidy shrugged. "It's not like you watched much," she said to Alley, then turned to John. "Thank you for that song, by the way. The one for Paul and me." She cleared her throat, feeling very awkward after a whole slew of memories about 'Paul and me' had just been brought up. "It was probably the only nice thing you've ever done for me."

Once again, Paul rubbed his hands over his face, this whole conversation just stressing him out.

John looked at Cass then, his head cocked to the side as he studied her. Usually he would make one of his usual snarky comments but he didn't want to add more fuel to the fire that was the table. So instead he just shrugged, half-smirked and said, "Don't mention it."

"_Attention in the Cavern! Attention in the Cavern, please!"_

Everyone at the table turned to look at the short, balding man who was on the stage and calling for attention. Everyone in the audience was looking at him, waiting for him to make his announcement. John stretched and groaned and looked at his fellow bandmates.

"I'll bet I know what he wants," he said, draining the last of what was in his glass.

"_Would the band please report back to stage. Once again, would the band please report back to the stage. Thank you."_

"Duty calls," Stu said with a small smile, standing up and already making his way back to the stage with Pete in tow.

John stood and grabbing Cynthia by the hand, took off towards the stage saying, "See you after the show, kiddies! Hurry the fuck up Harrison and McCartney, we don't got all night!" and then disappearing into the sea of people.

Cassidy stared after him, shaking her head. But as Paul rose up, she broke her trance and stood up with him. "I'll see you after the show," she whispered in his ear as he wrapped his arms around her. "Good luck!"

He grinned widely, pulling away so that he could see her face full view. "Thanks." He looked like he wanted to say more, but before he could Cass stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a light kiss on the lips, just enough to shut him up but not enough to distract him from the duty that he had tonight.

Once again, he flashed her a glowing white smile and started off towards the stage. "Good luck, Georgie!" Cass called, though she had already begun to see him as more of a George and less of a Georgie.

Alley watched as the whole band started to get set up on the stage again and with a sigh, she looked up at Cass and said, "So...when can I get that knife?"

...

George Harrison had changed.

He was no longer innocent and bashful, always blushing and looking down at his toes. No, now he was a man of just as much experience as Paul, though he was still a teenager and he was also still a bit on the shy side. Coming back to Liverpool, he had one thought on his mind, and one thought only: to show Cecilia Farrell that he was no longer a pussy.

When the band finally finished their set, they all hopped off the stage and went in search of a nice, tall glass of "water". George, too, decided he needed something to get him through the next two hours without passing out. Or maybe WITH passing out, who knew these days? He was sitting at the bar, sipping an iced glass of the stuff when none other than Cecilia Farrell approached him. Instantly, his heart dropped into his stomach and he choked on the mouthful that he had been swallowing.

"George?" she asked, as though she hadn't seen him in five fucking years. "George Harrison? Holy…I didn't recognize you under all that sweat!"

Back in the day, this wouldn't have jarred him at all. He would have just brushed it off, focused on the fact that a girl—not just any girl, either—had noticed him and was taking the time out to talk to him. But George…he was different now. Being in the band had given him more confidence, and John talking him up before big shows had stopped terrifying him and now made him feel like a million bucks. So that comment from Cecilia Farrell? Yeah, that wouldn't be allowed anymore.

No matter how hung up on her he still was.

"Yeah, I hardly recognized you with that outfit! Oh wait…" His eyes scanned her body, which was basically just enough clothes to go out in public without being paid for it. "What outfit?"

She barred her teeth, her bright smile fading and her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She looked like she couldn't comprehend exactly why he was acting like this. Then, her eyes zeroed in on the drink in his hand, which he was clutching like it was life support.

"Since when do YOU drink, George?" she asked coolly.

He thought about it, his thoughts beginning to run together slightly. "I dunno. Since I started needing to."

She looked mildly interested at this. "Need to? I get wanting to at our age…but needing to?"

Here it came, the moment that he had been preparing himself for the entire Hamburg trip. Every girl he slept with, every crumpled number that he pulled out of his pocket the next morning, every hickey and spilled drink and case of blue balls—it had all been preparing little George Harrison for THIS moment: "You honestly don't know what kind of hell you put me through, do you?"

She blinked once, twice. A long stream of air escaped her pursed lips, and she cocked a hand on her hip. "What are you going on about now?"

He continued to stare at her, that same expression of defiance still on his face. "You want me to just go along with whatever you say, don't you? You want me to be that same little puppy dog that I always was. Georgie Harrison, not the best of all options, but always there to fall back on when it's convenient for YOU."

"Oh, please. If you really liked me, you would have gone for me. And you know what? You never put forth as much effort as—"

"As WHO, Cecilia? Those bulky ass bastards who just show up and except you to have sex with them? Who was it that rang your doorbell almost every—single—fucking—day? Who was it that sat outside with you and listened to what you had to say? Who took that verbal beating—no, George , we can't be together—it would be like Beauty and the Beast!—and still kept coming back? Who was it that tried to change you? And not just attempted, but really, really tried to make you a better person? I—"

"If you really liked me, you wouldn't have tried to change me, like you say you did," she cut in, her snarky voice seeming especially rude to him in that moment for whatever reason.

He stood up, downing the last of his drink and waving his hand for another one. They stood face to face, George's lanky form overpowering hers, though she still stood stock still with her arms crossed tightly over her amply showing chest.

"I waited for you," he murmured, staring down into her deep blue eyes. His words were starting to slur a little bit, pouring out of his mouth easier than usual. "There was only one girl I ever wanted—and there is still only one girl that I want."

Cecilia rolled her eyes. That's it. That's all she did. ROLL HER FUCKING EYES.

George was a little bit upset about that

"Oh, fuck you, Cecilia," he said before he could stop himself. "Let's hear you say something completely honest, and then I'll roll my fucking eyes." George was NEVER one to speak up, but now that he had had a few drinks, he couldn't stop himself. He was on a roll. He reached down, enveloping one of her small, soft hands into one of his overly large ones. "Look at me and tell me that you're done. That's all I want."

"To be done we would have to begin in the first place. Just because you're in a band and you've gone out and experienced the world or some shit doesn't mean that you can just act like—"

"Act like what? Be honest with myself? Be honest with you? Because the truth is that I'm crazy about you, Cecilia, and I have no fucking idea why. You're bitchy and moody and self-centered, and now you're a complete hoe, to top it all off. You can't just…you're not…" He let his arms fall to his sides with a slap, completely at a loss for words.

George slid his arm back across the counter, picking up his drink and downing it in one gulp.

He turned around to find Cecilia still glaring at him, reading for him to say some new horrible thing so she could shoot something right back. But the truth was, he was the one that was done. He didn't want to like her any more than she wanted HIM to like HER, but he couldn't help it. He had tried. Oh, he had tried many a time. But all attempts were futile. She just had…something about her.

That was what compelled him to reach out, take her face in his hands, and kiss her.

She did not take this well, needless to say.

"Get OFF of me!" she exclaimed, pushing him away. "You think you're some big hotshot now 'cause you hang out with John Lennon? Well, here's a newsflash for you Georgie Boy: there's no such thing as a virgin rockstar."

She turned on her heel, already trying to push her way into the crowd to get away from him. No, he wouldn't let her have the last word. Intoxicated George Harrison was NOT George Harrison, that was for sure.

"I'M NOT A VIRGIN!" he screamed, and everybody within a ten foot radius turned to look at him. Including Cecilia Farrell.

Finally, finally he had gotten her attention. She just turned to look at him, the crowd surging behind her and pushing her forward. They were almost nose to nose when he whispered, "You're not the only one who can be a whore, babe." Satisfied at the horrified expression on her face when she finally learned that he wasn't her fallback any more, he simply turned around and left. Because love her or not, she still made him want to kill puppies.

George Harrison OUT, bitches.

…

George wound through person after sweaty-ass person, his face set in a deadly expression that was probably foreign to anybody that had known him before he "went out and experienced the world". Fucking Cecilia. Like she knew ANYTHING about him before he left. Why did he like her in the first place anyways? Back then, she may not have been a total hoe, but she was still a manipulative bitch.

With a massive push, he shoved open the door that lead outside. He walked a few steps, his vision clouded over with anger. He stumbled, sending his back crashing into the grimy, brick wall that stood behind him. He let himself sink down to the ground, his hand firmly pressed over his eyes.

"Way to go, George. Way to fucking go," he mumbled, shaking his head.

Alley was sitting on the curb, watching as all the people passed by her; some went into the club and some came out, their voices shrilly ringing in Alley's head and only adding to her irritation. The show had ended ten minutes ago and the boys had returned to the table, sweating and chatting excitedly. It seemed like everyone had coupled up. Cass was with Paul, John with Cyn and Stu and Pete were having a quiet and probably intellectual conversation. And then there was George. He looked sullen and didn't say much.

Speaking of George- he had popped out of nowhere or, more accurately, _fell _out of nowhere. He looked just about as stressed and angry and irritated as she felt. Leaning back casually onto one hand and taking a long drag from the cigarette she held in the other, Alley slowly turned to look in George's direction. He still had his hand over his eyes and was muttering incoherently to himself. He didn`t seem to notice or care that he was lying on the grime-filled and dirt-caked ground. Exhaling slowly after another long drag, as if the breath leaving her body physically hurt her, Alley spoke. Her voice was a complete monotone and held such a complete lack of emotion that it even scared her.

"Hey."

George looked up slowly, a sudden rush of warmth spreading from his head all the way to the tips of his toes when he realized it wasn't a bandmate or a Farrell sister that was talking to him. He'd had enough staring at freckles for one lifetime.

"Alley," he breathed, smelling the beer on his own breath. Not that he cared. Before Hamburg, he was a little bit of a prude as far as girls and drinking went. Now, he felt more confident and could put down almost as many as Pete. His intoxicated mind swirled a little bit as he tried to focus on her, his heart still racing from his encounter with Cecilia. "Alley, wow, I feel like I haven't seen you in f-forever."

Alley almost laughed. But she couldn't get her face to form even the tiniest of smiles. She flicked her cigarette into the street and sighed. "Drunk there, George? I saw you inside."

He blinked, his eyes remaining closed for slightly longer than he intended. Disregarding her comment, he said, "Do you wanna know something, Alley?" He didn't wait for her to answer, instead leaning forward and plunking his elbows on his knees, staring into her eyes. "Cecilia Farrell is such a bitch."

"Yeah," Alley said, nodding her head ever so slightly. Cecilia never really liked her and the feeling was mutual. Alley could never understand how Cecilia and Cass were sisters; they were both so different from each other. She twisted her body so that she was facing George. He looked more than a little smashed. "And John Lennon is a fucking man-whore bastard," Alley said. She leaned forward, locking eyes with George. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "But you know what? You know what the fucking kicker is? I'm in love with him."

George's eyes widened, and he got so excited that he started flailing his arms around. He gulped in large lungfuls of air, unable to speak but mouthing words like he could carry on an entire conversation by himself. Finally, he slapped his thigh and leaned in closer again. "Fuck! Same with me!" He thought about it, then reconsidered. "Except, I'm in love with Cecilia. Even though she's a freckly bitch." He reached out, swiped Alley's ciggy from her fingers, took a drag, and then replaced it as though this was a perfectly normal thing to do.

"Well at least I don't have to fight with you for John," Alley said, chuckling for the first time in a long while. She took one last drag on her cigarette and threw it far into the street. She sat there silently, watching as it cracked and fizzled and finally burned out. She slowly looked back at George. "What the fuck is wrong with us? Why are we in love with fucking people like them? Cecilia's got men lined up down the block, the filthty whore!" She made a face in George's direction. "No offense. And John. Well, he's got his hands full, doesn't he?"

"None taken," he assured her, shaking his head. Then he scoffed, louder than he would have if he was sober. Actually, a considerably lot louder than he normally would have. People turned and looked at him as they entered the club, wondering what the hell was going on, probably. He kind of sounded like a cat trying to hack up an entire mouse. "John...Fucking...Lennon." He shook his head in disdain. "I don't even...I can't..." He just shook his head again. "I don't know why you bother."

He interjected on himself, his eyebrows furrowing into each other. "No, fuck that, I DO know why you bother. He's a fucking genius, you know? And he makes people laugh-if he's not making fun of them, that is. He can get any girl he wants, and keep a steady bird while he's doing it. He's got you..." He pointed at her aimlessly, looking for a word that wouldn't come to his mouth. "He's got you...I dunno...being all..." He looked at her helplessly. "You know?"

"You know what, George?" she said, looking at him, right into his eyes as if she could see right into his very soul. "I do fucking know. I know exactly what you're trying to say." She closed her eyes for the moment, trying to block out the lights from the club and the sight of the people swarming around them. George hit it right on the mark. But, even though she knew all this about John, she couldn't bring herself to hold it against him. "George," she said in a whisper. It was almost like she was talking to herself. "George- I know all of that. But-I- George, I just-I fucking love him, George! I love him!" She opened her eyes and suddenly turned on him, grabbing his shoulder and holding it for dear life. "I love him. And it's not something you can get over. I. Love. Him."

"Amen, sister," he slurred, reaching his hand up to her for a high five. "You know what?" Again, he didn't wait for her to answer, just spat out whatever lingered in his brain for more than two seconds. "I REALLY need to get laid."

"I've only been laid once," Alley said. She scoffed and shook her head. "John." She turned to look at George, feeling an increasing sense of warmness spreading inside her. "I wouldn't mind doing it again. Not with John, that is. Well, actually yes with John. But not now. You know?" There was a silence for a moment. It hung in the air between them. Suddenly, then, Alley turned to George. "How many times have you been laid?" She pointed her finger in his face, wagging it at him. "And don't you lie, Harrison, I know _all _about Hamburg!"

"Idon'tfuckingknow," he sighed, all of it coming out in one jumbled mess. "I don't remember half that trip. What I DO remember though..." Suddenly he became very bashful, glaring down at his feet and trying to hide the blush that was coloring his hollow cheeks. "I do remember missing Cecilia, and imagining every one of those girls was her. Even though she's a bitch and it'll never happen," he added as an afterthought.

"Oh," Alley said. Then she saw the image that he described, flashing in her head. "Ew."

"Tell me about it." He stared at the ground for a long time, weighing options in his head. He had his eyes all screwed up and his thick eyebrows pulled together. It looked painful. "Alley?" he asked suddenly, looking up. His voice was quiet, softer than it had been all night. He found thoughts of Cecilia vanishing as one new thought took their place.

"Yeah, George?" Alley replied, turning to look at him. She studied his face at the moment and it was like she was looking at him for the first time. He had good, strong features and he always looked like he had a permanent scowl on his face. But then, he would smile, and it would light up his entire face. George was, well, cute.

He drew in a deep breath, rising to his feet. The blood rushed to his head, and he swayed a bit before extending a hand out to Alley. "I know this great way to forget about people you're in love with," he informed her, and if his words weren't so provocative his manner could almost be called sweet.

Alley placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. The world around her was slightly on a slant but she closed her eyes, shook her head and when she opened them again, it was all normal save for the slight blurriness on the edge of vision. "Show me," she said, once again locking eyes with him.

A smile cracked his lips. A genuine, George-smile that only the people he valued got to see, even when he was drunk.

"I thought you'd never ask."

…

**Addie AN: Well. I liked it. And whoa ho ho Alley and Georgie! Did that just happen?**

**Catie AN: Shit just got real.**

**Addie AN: Honestly. They ain't teenagers anymore. It's getting more and more real by the second.**

**Catie AN: George is still a teenager...Cassidy is still a teenager...Paul is still a teenager (though he surely doesn't act like it...or look like it...*PAULGASM*) so therefore, Addie my dear, you LIE.**

**Addie AN: Fine, fine. Shall I rephrase, then? Okay. I mean that they are older now and everything's getting a lot more serious. (Nevermind Paul, who sure is sexy but let's not forget about John. You know, otherwise known as sexy, attractive, really hot, etc? As in JOHNGASM!) Wow. Did it just get hot in here?)**

**Catie AN: Shut up, no one even like you. Or John. (Haha JK I can only dream of an ideal universe where everyone hates John in the special way that I do.)**

**Addie AN: Honey, honey, please. EVERYONE likes me. I'm awesome. And EVERYONE especially LOVES John. Know why? Cause he's awesome. There is a world where everyone hates John in the special way you do. It's called Catieville and there's a population of one. **

**Catie AN: And it's the coolest fucking place in the universe. Everyone rides rainbows to work-which is eating candy and donuts-and the only music that ever plays is GOOD ASS MUSIC and only funny Tumblr posts are allowed and the shitty writers on FanFiction are all dead. And you know who doesn't exist in this universe? I know you know. **

**Addie AN: I have to admit, it sounds good. But still, there is only you living there. So...maybe not so fun. A kind of "ah look at all the lonely people" type deal. See now, my world is similar in that all the bad FF writers are exiled, music is only good and Tumblr posts are funny. But see, in my world, there's Beatles stuff EVERYWHERE. It's a land of movies, music and junk food. Oh and it's always hot and you can always swim. Oh and also, there are falls and fountains that all run Coke. Not water. Oh yeah, there's a statue of the world's greatest (and hottest) man in the town square. I think you know who that is.**

**Catie AN: Right, it's Ron Weasley, we must have got them from the same manufacturer. AND YOU KNOW WHAT? I don't want to be in your world anyways, because Coke tastes like ass-water and after I work out I actually like to drink REGULAR WATER. So fuck you, and you little fantasy world. Because I didn't mean John Lennon didn't exist in my world, I meant YOU DIDN'T! *Sobs uncontrollably and runs away***

**Review please?**


	16. Chapter 16

**Addie's AN: **Well! Hello there, dear readers! It has been a while hasn't it? Well sorry, we have been busy. Let's see, what did I do? Oh, well, graduated college for one! :D Yup, it's true, I am a college graduate! Anyway...after leaving you with a shocking cliffhanger, we are back with a new and exciting chapter! Remember that time your pants were blown off? Well, this time, your head will do a total 360 spin. Seriously. You might even go all Exorcist and projectile vomit. Maybe.

**Catie AN: **Um, what have I done? I can't really top graduating from college...but...uh...I finished my freshman year without someone penny-ing me to death and I have a cumulative GPA of 4.3? Yay? Ha...that's really the only source of my pride right now. You know what I could use, Addie?

**Addie AN: **4.3 is awesome by the way! :D No, what could you use, Catie?

**Catie AN: **I could use a little review-fix. I honestly could. And you?

**Addie AN: **Hell yeah! I could always use a little review fix. A big review fix actually. Indulge us, readers.

**Catie AN: **Yes, yes. But first, I feel as if they might want to read the chapter. Because really, I'd say it was one of our better ones. We actually finished it in like two days, but then took two weeks to get the ANs done. So. Um. Let's start this off with some George Harrison? :^)

...

George Harrison was a morning person.

He liked the lazy feel of waking up on the weekends, drinking a few cups of coffee, messing around on his guitar in nothing but his pants, taking a long, steamy shower, and calling one his friends. He also loved getting up early, getting a move on to his day, like he did on the weekdays. And so this Sunday morning, he felt his body slowly start to awaken, though his eyes remained tightly shut.

It started with his mind. George broke out of his dreamland with the first thought of the day: he was back in his own bed. It was actually a rather comforting thought. Here he was, snugly in his blankets, a cool breeze playing with the wisps of hair that hung in his eyes. His bed was like a cloud, compared to the rough mattresses and sometimes the floors that he slept on in Hamburg.

Then he started to get feeling in his arms. He spread the wide, arching up over his pillows, then let them fall. One bumped into a warm patch, and his hazy mind saw that as the perfect point of congregation. He circled himself around the solid, warm spot on the bed, enjoying the soothing feeling of whatever-it-was's softness. His legs started waking up at that point, too, and he stretched them, finding that they, too, hit something solid.

George's still-awakening mind started playing a game: What's That Thing? A dog? No. He didn't have a dog, so why would one just show up in his bed? Uh, well, it could be a body pillow. It was nice and soft but not really as squishy as a bag of feathers should normally be. He searched his mind for other possibilities, but his brain refused to actually think at this time in the morning. Sighing, he decided that the best thing to do was open his eyes and see for himself.

He put his head closer, his chin making contact with something soft, smooth, and long. Hair, his brain registered. Human hair. Girl hair. Slowly, his thinking-process started up again. Girl hair was normally attached to a girl head, which was usually attached to a girl body, which meant that-

Shit. What did he do last night?

He slowly opened his eyes, afraid of what he might see. Black hair. He considered this. Black hair wasn't exactly as common as blonde hair or brown hair, but it wasn't like it was blue or anything. George allowed his eyes to travel a bit further down, noticing that no clothes covered her smooth-looking, dark skin. He blinked a couple of times, a thought occurring to him. Wasn't the last person he talked to last night...? He picked up his head, seeing around her small shoulder, and happened upon a very, very familiar face.

"Oh, fuck," he swore loudly.

Waking up after a really good sleep was a feeling that you couldn't easily describe. It was like waking up and realizing that it was a weekend and there was no school so you could go back to sleep for a few more hours. It was like waking up from a long hibernation, stretching and feeling the satisfying crack as your body unwound. It was like waking up and knowing you were going to have a good day. Alley felt that way before she even opened her eyes. She was lying in a soft bed, even softer than her own and it only added to her feeling of warmness and safety and comfort.

She turned her body slightly, feeling the sunlight peeking through the half-open curtains and washing over her entire body, making her skin tingle. She felt a smile creep on her face, something that hadn't been seen from her in a really long time. Ever since she saw J-

No.

She was not going to think about him. Not right now while she was so happy and comfortable.

A rustle of movement beside her caught her slowly awaking consciousness. Who would be in her bed with her? Or...wait. This wasn't her bed. Where was she? And who was she with? She searched her mind then, trying to remember who she talked to last night and who she was with. Unfortunately, all the alcohol she consumed was clouding her memory.

What happened last night?

They were at the Cavern. She drank. She was sitting with Cass and watching the band play. Then she drank. The whole group talked together. _He _was with _her. _Then, surprise, she drank. After the show, she spoke with...oh no. Oh no, no, no. That wouldn't be possible. She wouldn't...not even drunk...she...oh God.

But then she heard the unmistakable voice mutter the words she was thinking. She opened her eyes, slowly turned around and met the eyes of one George Harrison.

"Shit."

George realized that his body was still tucked around her, and he quickly let go and rolled onto his back. "Alley. We..."

Alley moved away from him, pulling the sheets up to almost her chin. "George. We...umm...we...oh I don't want to say it..."

He stared straight up for a long time, not really knowing what to say. "I was drunk-WE were drunk, I mean-and we...you know, we didn't know what we were doing."

"But, umm, well," Alley said, letting her breath escape for a moment. She focused on a dark spot on the ceiling, not wanting to look at George just yet. "Yeah, we were drunk. It wasn't really our faults. I mean we...we...we did it. Oh George, we did it!" She shook her head. "I don't...how?"

"Shhh," he hissed, waving his hands in the air vigorously, his face scrunched up. "Don't talk about it."

Alley turned and gave him a look. "Don't you think it's a little late for that?" She thought for a moment and then sort of gasped. "Oh fuck me! I mean-shit. John's gonna kill you. And me. Cass is gonna...I don't know what she's gonna do." She had a thought hit her just then and she slugged George's arm, harder than she intended. "Do you know what this means?"

He winced, sitting up and rubbing his arm. He shot her a reproachful look. "No, what does this mean?"

She sat up then, crossing her arms over her sheet-covered chest. "I'm a Beatles whore!," she said matter-of-factly. "I slept with two-fifths of you guys! And I kissed Paul once. This is...this is bad. " She chuckled; the kind of nervous chuckle you do when you're on the brink of insanity. "All I need is to fuck Stu and Pete and I'll have had the whole set!"

He held up a hand. "Alley. Stop." He shook his head, pulling the covers up around his waist and trying not to think about his pale, bony chest. "We just...we just can't let anybody find out about this."

"Too late."

Alley looked to the door suddenly, her jaw nearly dropping when she saw her best friend standing there, looking equally as shocked. "Oh shit!" she cursed loudly, causing George to jump a little. "I-we-oh fuck me, it just happened."

Cassidy looked at George. "Oh, fuck you, is right," she said, a wide grin spreading across her face. She honestly could not believe her luck; she had been looking for George since nine o'clock, when Cecilia awoke her from her deep slumber to inform her that George Harrison was a dirty, no good scoundrel and that if she intended on staying friends with him she (Cassidy, herself) should go and stage an intervention. This had been the highlight of her week, so she had immediately called Paul, who had told her that George actually HAD gone home with a bird the previous night, though he was a little, teensy bit wasted and he couldn't remember who.

Cass chuckled to herself. Walking in on Alley and George, right in the middle of the morning after freak out; she was such a lucky bitch.

George turned deep red at her words, looking at the sheets and trying to forget that under them, he was naked. Her words had taken any that he might of had right out of his mouth, and he was relying solely on Alley to do some damage control.

"Why the fuck are you smiling?" Alley asked, shaking her head at Cass' smile. Here she was, caught in bed with someone she shouldn't be in bed with and her best friend was near laughing. "Is this funny?"

"Yes, this is probably the most fucking hilarious thing I have seen in a while." She looked at George. "Thank you so much for coming back. Without you boys our lives were so boring." She cracked another huge smile, then burst into a round of uncontrollable giggling. "Right, Al?"

"Oh yeah," Alley said, shaking her head. "They are just a fuckin' barrel of laughs! Look, Cass, could you leave so we could get dressed?" She nudged George, who hadn't said a word so far. "Right, George?"

He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Uh, Cass, could you-could you _please_-leave. This is really fucking uncomfortable."

She nodded through her laughter, turned around, and began to open the door. "Wow," she said as an afterthought, turning around to face them again, "I didn't know you were that far into this thing; making your decisions as a team? I'm impressed."

"Out, Cass!" Alley said, sending a glare her way. "Or I will, honestly, fucking strangle you with the lamp cord."

Cassidy let out one last snort before scurrying out the room, doubled over with pent up laughter. They heard the door close, then an outburst of cackling that was sure to wake the entire neighborhood.

George looked at Alley. "So."

Alley nodded and sighed. "So. I guess Cass knows."

"And really," George said, with a hopeful smile, "that's half the battle, right? Now, as long as she doesn't tell John..."

"She better not tell John!" Alley said, turning to look at him fully. "John's with...Cynthia, yeah but he'll fucking blow his top, he will."

He shook his head, looking down. "Ah, Alley. He has no right to, and you know that." Cassidy had informed him of the whole situation, and he was totally on her side. Though John had been great to George-albeit a little bit...intimidating-even he could admit that his friend was sometimes Lord of the Douchebags.

Alley looked down at her hands. "I know. He doesn't have a right." She inhaled then blew out a long breath. "But he'll still be mad. And he'll go off like a fuckin' firecracker. Cause that's John."

"Yeah. Well. It's a little too late to be thinking about that, right?" He got up, pulling on his pants, then a pair of trousers. He pretended that his face was burning bright red when he turned around to face her. "Cassidy hates John; she wouldn't tell him about this."

"I guess she wouldn't," Alley said, nodding and feeling slightly better. She ran a hand through her hair. "I don't want to deal with anymore John-drama than I have to, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." And he did, really. "Listen, Al. Um. You better get dressed, because I have band practice in an hour and I need to..." He struggled for a moment to find the word. "Mentally prepare."

"Don't worry," Alley said, grabbing her clothes and quickly slipping into them. "I totally fucking understand." Once she was fully dressed, she stood and smoothed down her hair as best she could. "I guess I'll see you later, Georgie." She made her way to the door, pausing in the doorway and turning to look at him. "Uh...thanks...I guess...for... you know?"

He nodded, closing his eyes and waving his hands in front of his face again. "Yeah," he said quickly. "I know. And...erm...thanks, too, I guess."

Alley nodded, attempted a smile and was gone.

…

Cassidy was nearly in hysterics when she exited George's flat and started to make her way home, wiping tears of laughter out of her eyes. The uncomfortableness of the situation was just overwhelmingly funny. She was just crossing the bridge that led into her section of town when she saw John making his way down Penny Lane.

"Hey!" she called brightly, waving at his approaching figure.

John looked up, peering at the approaching figure through the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. He had his guitar slung over his shoulder and a cigarette in his hand. He was still feeling a bit-well, actually A LOT-hungover from the night before. The approaching figure turned into a person as he got closer and after a few seconds of agonized squinting, he saw that it was Cass. He groaned a bit, hoping that she wasn't going to yell at him for something or other in her annoying way. He stopped before her, leaning against a light post.

"Hi."

"How are you?" she asked, fighting to keep a straight face and failing miserably.

"Fine," John replied, raising his eye-brows at her. He took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out through his nostrils. "And I suppose you want me to ask how you are...?"

She smiled widely. "Oh, that would be wonderful." She licked her lips, looked down at her feet, and then looked back at him. "Me? Yeah, I'm doing great. Just came from George's place, actually." She pressed her lips together, giggles threatening to spill from between them at any point.

John's interest was a bit piqued at that moment, he had to admit. "And what would be so funny about little Georgie's place, luv?"

"You've really turned him into a little whore, you know that?" She laughed. A good laugh, one of those throw your head back and let the whole world hear you laughs. A sudden thought occurred to her, one that she was sure would please her immensely; what if she told John that Alley slept with George? That would show him to fuck with her feelings.

"One tends to not stay pure in Hamburg for long," John said, forming a smile of his own. "If you know what I mean."

She nodded slowly, cocking her head. "Yeah...but I think it might have been your influence more than the whole Hamburg thing, you know? Because, ha, well, you've certainly done a number with Alley."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" John asked, his defenses rising. He immediately went from smiling and joking to dangerous in a matter of seconds. "I didn't do anything to her."

Cassidy snorted. "Oh, yeah. Okay."

"Fuck off." He threw his cigarette into the street and fixed the hold he had on his guitar. "Is that all you wanted to say? I don't have time to fucking talk all day- I'm meeting the band at Paul's."

"Oh, sorry. Yeah, I think I did hear George mention something about that to Alley this morning-I can't be sure, of course, seeing as I was in the other room. But, you know how that is. Of course they wouldn't want me there." She offered up another quick smile before turning around and continuing on her way back home. "Bye, John! Say hi to Paul for me, and tell him I'll call him later."

John stood there for a moment, Cass's words registering in his brain. He reached out and grabbed her, turning her to face him. He was beyond dangerous and angry now.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

She raised her eyebrows innocently. "Um. Tell Paul to call me later?"

John gave a sarcastic smile. "Cute, freckles. You know what I mean."

Oh, did she ever. "About Alley and George? Wait-did no one tell you? Wow, that's funny. For once, John Lennon doesn't know something that I do. This actually feels pretty good." She laughed, knowing full well that she sounded like a bitch but feeling like he deserved every once of it.

John, still gripping Cass's arm, half shook her. "What? They fucking slept together?" He was getting angry now; the anger boiling up inside of him. All he could think was, how could they?

Cassidy let herself get shaken, and didn't even flinch when he screamed in her face. Instead, she just smiled, shaking her head slowly. "I'm sorry that I had to be the one to tell you this, John, but you have no right-NO RIGHT-to be mad right now. You have a girlfriend, remember? And she's not Alley."

John didn't have anything to say. He stood there for a moment, angrily breathing in and out before finally letting go of Cassidy's arm. He couldn't say anything to defend himself. He just held his hands up in front of him, shook his head and walked away.

Cass watched him go, stomping off towards Paul's house. She temporarily contemplated running there ahead of him and warning the lads about the oncoming storm that was John Lennon, but she quickly ruled it out. He was still going to be just as angry. And it was her fault. She felt a momentary flash of guilt for the things John was probably going to say to George, and a little bit of dread for what Alley would say to her when she find out that she told John. But, somehow, it didn't matter. For the first time, Cass had rendered John speechless.

And the aftermath that followed was all worth it.

…

John stormed into Paul's house, not even bothering to knock before. He pushed the door open, causing it to swing into the coat rack that stood behind it, nearly knocking the old wooden thing to the ground. On the walk over to Paul's house, he had become increasingly angry; the thought of Alley with George (with George of ALL people) turning over in his mind, again and again and again. It was enough to make anyone blind with anger.

On the other hand, his more reasonable side thought, Cass was right. He didn't have the right to be angry. After all, he didn't own Alley. Hell, they weren't even together. But he couldn't stop his anger from clouding his better judgement, regardless of what may be right and wrong. He stalked into Paul's living room, throwing his guitar onto the couch. He received shocked looks from Paul, Stu and Pete but ignored them. He was zoning in on one person. He walked right up to his "friend", standing over him menacingly.

He didn't speak. He waited.

The room was dead silent. George looked up expectantly, only to find John looming over him and looking pissed as all fuck. "Uh...hey, John," he muttered meekly, hoping-no PRAYING TO THE ALMIGHTY-that Cassidy hadn't talked to him. That this was just about...he didn't know, a chord or something.

"Don't you fuckin' give me "hey John"!" he spat angrily, giving George's shoulder a push. "You know _exactly _what I'm talking about."

George swallowed nervously, glancing over at Paul-who gave him nothing but a look of horror-then looking back at John. He was SO not good at confrontations. "Um. I...didn't mean to?"

"Oh oh OH!" John said, turning and dramatically waving his hands in the air. "I get it! You didn't mean to!" He walked straight up to George and kneeled in front of him so they were eye level. "So lemme get this straight. You met her and you fell on top of her and all your clothes flew off and then you had SEX all because of something magical. Oh, I see how you didn't mean to(!)"

George's hands were shaking so bad that he was afraid of dropping his guitar, and his face was completely devoid of any color whatsoever. He looked from one band mate to the next: Paul's mouth had formed a neat little 'O' and his eyebrows were raised nearly to his hair line; Stu was stoic and his eyes unreadable behind his shades; Pete was avoiding his gaze entirely, scrutinizing a speck of dust that had inhabited the patch of floor near his feet.

Finally, he looked at John again, who looked like he was barely restraining himself from reaching out and strangling him. "She's not your girlfriend," he whispered, so quietly that he was sure it was inaudible.

For the second time that hour, John was speechless. How could he defend that? Alley was not his girlfriend. They weren't together. They were never together. Not officially, at least. His anger was strong enough, though, and he let it control him.

"Still!" John said, throwing his hands up in the air. "You shouldn't have slept with her. It's like... the fucking guy code or something!" He turned and let out an angry growl before kicking Paul's coffee table, putting a small crack in the glass.

"Hey!" Paul exclaimed, but was immediately silenced by the look of pure death John shot him.

George's mouth twitched, and he set his guitar down and tried to hold his hands together to keep them from shaking so badly. "I...erm...well. I didn't know the guy code applied to Alley." He sucked in a mouthful of oxygen. "Because. Uh. You're going out with Cyn, and you never even went out with Alley." He looked at John, right in the eye this time. "Right?"

John felt his anger burning in his eyes then, like it was going to burn holes in the spots where his eyes were and replace them with angry orange flames. Once again, he was proven wrong. He didn't know what to say or how to react. He wanted to reach out an hit George with every fiber of his being but it wouldn't have been justified. Not knowing what to do, he just stood there, breathing heavily in the silent room.

Paul took a step forward, gritting his teeth about the coffee table his father would no doubt want to inquire about later, and placed a hand on John's shoulder. "Er...George. I think what John was trying to say is that even though he's with Cynthia, him and Alley do have a kind of thing. You know all about that, too. So he just doesn't understand why you would sleep with her after...you know. He...uhh..." Paul was quickly running out of things to say, but he had to make John less mad. "Had that thing with her and everything." He pushed a hand through his hair, staring at the floor and wondering what he was just going on about. "Isn't that right, Johnny?"

John, who was now sitting on the couch where he had haphazardly thrown his guitar when he first came in, didn't answer. Instead, he just barely looked up at his peace-making friend and nodded so slightly that one looking fast could miss it. He reverted his gaze back to his hands then and didn't utter a sound.

"Right," Paul said, breathing out. "Okay."

George sat stock-still, his eyes wide, not believing that he just survived that. Honestly, it quite blew his mind. "Paul?" he asked in that same tone of voice. "I...I think I need to go home."

Letting out a low, heavy sigh, Paul nodded, and George quickly crossed the room and exited the house, being careful to leave a wide arc between himself and the steaming John (who looked like he was still about to explode).

"Well..." John said, his voice still borderline lethal. "Let's practice then."

…

"You are a fucking dick, John Lennon!"

John and Alley stood a few feet apart from each other, under the tree that they had dubbed their own not a few years ago. It used to be the source of their fun times and the times when they were wrapped up in each other, kissing with a passion that only they shared with each other. But Hamburg seemed to change a lot more than the band's musical skills. It caused two people who used to be closer than to close to act, mentally and physically (seeing how they were standing feet apart), like there was a drift between them. Neither liked it but both were too stuck with pride to let the other one know it.

Neither of them spoke for a while. Both were breathing hard and ragged and standing with their fists balled up at their sides. John was angry about George sleeping with Alley. One would think that practicing with the band for nearly two hours would soothe his anger and calm him down but it somehow only fuelled the fire. It was like a million different bombs were exploding inside of him, showering him with a fresh burst of anger every time. When Alley unexpectedly showed up on Paul's doorstep, it seemed to all come to the surface.

Alley had just as much reason to be angry, albeit her anger shouldn't be directed at John. It shouldn't be directed at anyone, really. Anger seemed to be floating through the air and the two angriest people in Liverpool (or so it seemed anyway) picked up on it. Alley had received a call late in the morning from a flustered George. He explained how he skipped out on band practice on account of John nearly killing him and how he didn't understand how John could have found out in the first place. He rambled on and on until Alley finally yelled at him to pull himself together and then hung up on him. She marched over to Paul's house straight away and banged on the door, not budging until John came out.

The walk over to the tree, _their _tree, was painfully silent and tense. The near-tangible waves of tension and fury radiating from the both of them was enough to choke a horse and then some. Not one word was spoken, not even a sigh or a throat clearing. Even the everyday sounds of life seemed to be hushed as they walked by; no loud car engines or music blasting from radios on the porch or children screaming in delight in their games of tag or hide and go seek. Silence seemed to enclose around them like a stifling cocoon.

When they arrived at the tree, though, all hell broke loose.

"Oh, _I'm _the dick?" John asked, throwing his hands up in the air with exasperation. He took a step towards Alley and pointed his finger at her. "You! You are a whore!"

Alley laughed, a cruel, cold laugh. "Right, John, now that's a joke if I ever heard one! I've only slept with two people in my life! But how about you, Mr. Hamburg? How many women have you fucking slept with?"

John didn't answer her then but only stared at her, his eyes blazing and his mouth set in a firm line. Alley nodded then shook her head, sitting down in front of the tree with her head in her hands. After a few moments, she looked up at him.

"I don't know what you want from me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I honestly don't."

When John just stood there and didn't say anything, she continued. Her voice was so low it was like the wind whistling through the trees. "I'm not your girlfriend. I never was. What gives you the right to be angry with me or with George for that matter?"

John chuckled without any humour. "What, and you don't think I fucking see the way you are when I'm with Cyn?"

Alley scoffed and muttered under her breath, "Coulda fooled me."

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, John," Alley said, standing and making complete eye-contact with him. "It means absolutely nothing. We are NOT together. And we shouldn't care about what the other one does with whoever they fuck they want to do it with."

John looked like he wanted to say something else but he quickly clamped his mouth shut and nodded stiffly. "I guess you're right," he finally said. He cocked his head to the side, thinking for a moment. "If it were different-"

"Then it would be different," Alley finished, curtly. She let out a long stream of breath she had been holding in. "But it is the way it is. Let's leave it there." She took a few steps closer to him until they were only inches away. "But can we stop this?"

"Stop what?" he asked, his voice barely audible. His eyes met hers and she felt her breath catch a little.

"Can it be the way it was?" Alley asked, not tearing herself away from his gaze. "At least the friendship part?"

John smiled; a ghost of a smile. "It would only seem fair, wouldn't it?"

"It would."

"But, do you think we could handle it?"

Alley couldn't help but chuckle then. "Yeah. I think I can restrain myself."

They shared a little laugh then and for the smallest, split second, it felt like old times. It was a feeling that Alley welcomed. But as all moments, it couldn't last forever. After a few moments, they were apart and back to themselves. John cleared his throat and Alley nodded.

"Yeah, well, uh," Alley said, running a hand through her hair. "I should….go. You know?"

"Yeah, yeah. Me too."

Alley turned and began to walk away but when she was nearly out of the clearing, curiosity struck her. She turned to see John standing in the same position.

"Uh, John?"

His head snapped up quickly and he looked slightly embarrassed to be found still standing there. He cleared his throat again and put on one of his smirks.

"What?"

Alley fingered a strand of her hair as she stood there. "Who told you? About- you know."

John smirked looked nearly real then. "Cass. Who else?"

"Of fucking course."

Alley flashed a semblance of a smile in his direction and then turned and headed back to town, forcing herself to not turn around and look at him one more time.

...

Alley walked slowly on her way back home, the thoughts swirling around in her head making her legs move slower. Twice, as she walked down the nearly empty street, she almost bumped into someone's post box. The meeting she just had with John was still fresh in her mind and it was affecting her everyday motor skills. It wasn't that it was even that bad, either. Sure, John was mad when she first arrived and then Alley got mad but then it all blew over and it was almost like the normal Alley-John again. She left feeling almost happy again.

But the short meeting had left her confused.

John was in a relationship now with...with her. Every time Alley saw them together, they were all over each other and neither of them barely came up for air let alone paid much attention to the world around them. And yet despite that, Alley had heard that John nearly killed George when he found out about their night together. When she asked him, John didn't allude to liking her like that but his eyes conveyed something different. They were dark and stormy and filled with enough emotion to make them look like they were blazing out of his face. But Alley didn't push it.

It seemed like the story of her life lately. You feel something and you push it down and push it down and down until it's gone and until you don't feel it anymore. No one was really dealing with their true feelings lately and Alley, although guilty of the same, was beginning to get fed up with it. Sighing, she continued on her way to her house with the intention of throwing herself onto her bed and not getting up until 1965. Her plans, however, were dashed when she saw Cass sitting on the porch swing, looking like she had something to talk about.

"Fuck me," Alley whispered to herself, groaning internally. She didn't want to deal with anyone right now. For a moment, she had the urge to turn around and run. But she didn't. She forced a smile on her face, some confidence in her step and met her friend on her front porch.

Cassidy could tell that the last person Alley wanted to talk to was her. However, the guilt that she felt from telling John about Alley and George had been chewing away at her stomach all day. She knew the only way she would feel better was if she was sure that Alley wasn't TOO mad. For the most part, it would be unavoidable. She was always pissed at something or other. But she couldn't stand if they started fighting again.

"I know you're probably beyond pissed at me right now," she said, skipping hello altogether.

Alley sighed and sat down on the second step, putting one hand over her eyes as if trying to rub away the oncoming headache. "You know, I'm too fucking tired to be even remotely pissed."

Cass allowed herself to smile and exhale the breath she didn't even realize she had been holding. "Oh. So. You and John are all better, then?"

"All better?" Alley echoed then scoffing she said, "I don't know if "all better" is what I'd use. But it's good. For now. We've...reached an understanding."

Moving over on the porch swing, Cass patted the space beside her and gave Alley a warm smile. "And that is...?"

Alley shook her head but allowed a smile to appear on her face-a genuine smile. She rose from the steps and made her way over to the porch swing. It was a new addition to the house, something her mother found at the store and thought would make the house look "positively charming". She sat, letting the swing move back and forth a few times before turning to look at Cass.

"We realized that we were never together," Alley said with a sigh. "Meaning that we have no say on each other's relationships. So, we're going back to being friends. And that's it."

Cassidy blinked. "Well. I could have fucking told you _that_." She sighed, shaking her head with a rather exasperated smile. "The sexual tension between you two is stifling-I seriously can't be in a room while both of you are in it because I'd probably pass out. But, friends? Just friends? I don't understand how you can be friends with a guy that you constantly want to see naked." She held up her hands and raised her eyebrows. "Just saying."

Alley had to laugh. "Look, Cass," she said with a shake of her head, "there is no sexual tension." She thought about that for a moment. "All right, so maybe there was. Maybe even still is. But we had our one night and-that's it." She sighed, pressing herself back into the seat and making the swing go back and forth. "Yes, Cass, just friends." She closed her eyes and mumbled to herself, "Just friends."

"Well, I give that like two weeks," she responded, picking at a hangnail and smiling to herself. "Three, tops."

"Well, you keep thinking that," Alley replied with a smile. "See where it takes you."

Cassidy brightened, an idea overtaking her entire brain. "Alley. You know what we should do that we haven't done in a while?"

Alley raised her eye-brows skeptically, looking at her friend. "And what would that be?"

"Sleepover. Tonight. Hell yeah?"

Alley laughed out loud, the idea of having fun very appealing. "Hell yeah!"

Cass smiled and bounded up, pulling Alley's hand and tugging her towards the front steps. "But first, pancakes. Because I'm hungry."

"Pancakes? In the afternoon?" Alley cocked her head to the side, thinking for a moment. Then a smile appeared on her face and she nodded in approval. "I love it."

They jumped off the front steps, almost falling, and then took off down the street, talking and laughing all the way down. It was almost like old times.

No, it was _just _like old times.

…

Alley fell asleep earlier than usual that night, claiming that "conversations made her tired". That left Cassidy to lay on Alley's bedroom floor at two thirty in the morning, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last time she had been in this same exact position. It was a long time ago. Before Royce died, before her father died, before she had sex with Paul. Hell, it was probably around the time that she _met_ Paul.

She was seventeen years old now, the only one of her friends still in school. Alley and John had graduated two years back, and Paul and George had both dropped out before Hamburg, despite her best protests. It seemed like so long ago that she was a little sophomore, the only thing that mattered to her being grades and keeping her little sister in line.

Sighing, she fingered one of her auburn curls and rolled onto her side. The usual sounds of Alley's house, the ones she was so accustomed to, were absent; the blare of the television set, the low, drunken mumblings of Royce, Garrett and his friends laughing and beer bottles clinking from the room next door. Somehow, it used to all meld into a soft lullaby that could quiet her mind any night.

But now they were gone, and her thoughts still consumed her brain.

A deep rumble blared in her stomach, and she thought of the pancakes that she had eaten so many hours ago. She quickly decided to run down to the kitchen and raid Alley's pantry.

Minutes later, she was pulling the fridge open and peering inside. Yogurt…no. Pickles…ew, no. Apple juice…milk…beer. She pushed it all aside and snatched out a chocolate pudding cup. Cassidy smiled to herself as she yanked open the silverware drawer and came out with a spoon.

"That's mine."

She jumped, dropping the spoon and letting it clatter to the floor. She turned around quickly, only to find an intoxicated Garrett sipping off a bottle. He leered at her, then tilted the bottle up and drained what was left.

"Sorry," she murmured, placing it back in the refrigerator and taking a quick step back.

He laughed, shaking his long, red hair out of his face. "Fuckin' Cassidy Farrell. Haven't seen you around here in a long time."

Cass blinked a couple times, trying to get her brain to instruct her feet to get the hell out of there. But her mind had turned off, and she was completely paralyzed. That was the thing about Garrett; he always freaked her out. Badly. Alley didn't completely mind him, and he was alright when he was sober. But the few times Cass had encountered him like this stuck out clearly in her mind.

"W-well I've been—"

"I heard about you and McCartney. Atta girl." He winked at her, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands on his chest.

A horrible, gut-wrenching feeling ripped through her body. She could feel her hands sweating, her knees starting to wobble. She needed to get out of there. However, the only exit was right past him, and she felt like that would be an entirely too huge mistake.

"I…er…I-I don't know what you're talking about," she muttered.

He raised his eyebrows. "So you and him aren't fucking around?"

"We're going out, if—well, um, if that's what you mean."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "That's not really what I mean."

Suddenly, she got it. Cringing, she turned away from him and picked the spoon off the tile floor. She heard the creak of his chair as he stood, the slap of his bare feet as he made his way towards her, and then his hot breath as she straightened up, only to find him directly behind her.

Garrett pushed the hair off her neck, leaning in towards her ear and whispering, "I could treat you so much better."

She closed her eyes tightly, still facing away from him. Her mind was whirring furiously, trying to draw up the usual pluckiness that she faced difficult situations with. She was not the girl that stood there and did nothing, yet look at the way she was behaving. Drawing in a deep breath, she opened her eyes and glared maliciously at the wall in front of her.

"Leave me the _fuck _alone."

He chuckled, deep and low and hot on her skin, and moved his hands down toward her waist. "You've really turned into quite a woman, Cass. So—"

"I said," she cut him off, spinning around and shoving him in the chest firmly, "leave me alone."

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Cassidy's chest rose and fell rapidly, her heart beating a million miles per hour as she tried to figure out her next move. Garrett also stood there, halfway across the room, leaning back on the kitchen table and surveying her with hungry eyes.

Finally, he cracked a smile and shook his head, reaching a hand up to soothe his mused hair. "Oh, Cassidy. So feisty." He started walking toward the hallway which led to the staircase, holding up a finger and shaking it at her. "It's your best fault, I swear it. Gonna get you in a lot of trouble one day."

She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest tightly. "Go hit on someone your own age, creep."

He paused at the staircase, one hand on the rail, and stared down at his feet. He slowly turned to look at her, his eyes significantly darker than before. "A lot of trouble," he repeated, his tone barely a whisper. Then he flashed her one last haunting grin before disappearing up the staircase.

As soon as he was gone, Cassidy let her composure drop. Her shoulders slumped, and she clasped both hands over her mouth, trying to hold in the frightened sobs that threatened to come out. Her knees finally gave out, and she fell to the ground, kneeling there with her back hunched over. She made sure to make no noise; if Garrett heard, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction. The sick fuck.

After a long, long time, she finally stood, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. She knew that if she went back up to Alley's bedroom, he wouldn't bother her. She also knew, however, that if she left and went home, she wouldn't even have to walk past his bedroom. But what would Alley think if she woke up and found Cassidy gone?

No, there was no choice.

Slowly, silently, she climbed the stairs, taking them one at a time. When she reached the top, she turned her focus to the door the Alley's bedroom, and nowhere else. Still, her mind seemed to want to freak her out even more, and she could feel her pace slowing as she neared the door the Garrett's bedroom. She couldn't resist; she stopped altogether, put her ear on his door, and listened.

There was no sound, no light peeking from underneath the door. He must be sleeping. Letting out a relieved sigh, she continued the journey down the hallway toward her best friend's room. She had left the door ajar on her way out, and she pushed it all the way open as neared it.

Instead of lightly bumping into the wall, the door hit something more squishy and it didn't make any noise at all as it creaked to being halfway closed again. Panic flared in her chest, and she knew that she should just enter Alley's room and lie back down on the floor. However, she knew that she wouldn't able to even close her eyes if she didn't figure out was loomed in the darkness, so she took a step forward, toward the solid shape.

Suddenly, five fingers clamped over her mouth and one long, gangly, freckled arm wrapped around her entire torso, sealing her arms to her sides. She tried to thrash and scream, but all her attempts were muted by her attacker.

"Shhh, Cassidy," she heard, hot and scratchy on her ear. "It's alright. This won't hurt a bit."

...

**Catie AN: **Ohh, Garrett. You creepy motherfucker. :)

**Addie AN: **Fuckin' seriously, man. Now THAT was intense.

**Catie AN: **Yes, yes it was. Kay, guys. I have tell you. We honestly tried to make the story happier for a chapter or two. You know, a little less death-and-sadness type of writing. But we honest to goodness couldn't do it. Like, it was painful.

**Addie AN: **I swear! It was so hard to make the characters happy and to write happy story-lines. We do not have it in our bones. Ha. What the fuck does that say about us?

**Catie AN: **Probably nothing good. But, in my defense, it's kind of hard to be upbeat when you've got the Queen of Death over here trying to make everything about passion and death and sadness and intensity. I only followed along. You know, my brain is still developing and I can only absorb what my elder does and follow along.

**Addie AN: **Now that is entirely true. Queen of Death has a certain ring to it. It's what I do, young grasshopper, shape young minds to think darkly.

**Catie AN: **I'm still at the tender age of fifteen; not really a freshman but not quite an upperclassmen. Hahaaa alright Addie, Queen of Death, we should wrap this up. This chapter is long enough without our usual rant-fighting. Oh, wait, actually I feel like this chapter is our shortest... YES! IT IS! ADDIE WE DID IT! WE ACTUALLY MANAGED NOT TO OVER-WRITE!

**Addie AN: **OMMG! Hahaha well we managed to not overwrite but we will never manage to write happy. Oh well. Small price. Review, people, review!

**Catie AN: **Please let me get my review fix? I've had the Week From Hell (I won't even get into it) and I got use it. We love you all, and thank you so much for your continued support of us since day one. We wouldn't have gotten to this point without it :D

Voldemort out, bitches. (Who's excited for HP7.2? Catie is.)


	17. Chapter 17

**Addie AN: **HELLO READERS! Okay that was a bit happy. Anyway. I know we haven't updated in a few lifetimes. But we haven't left. School (for Catie) and...I don't know...life shit (for me) has gotten in the way. But here we are and here we will stay. We know you will love this chapter. So please read. And DUH, review.

**Catie AN: **Hi. Read. Thanks. (LOVE YOU ALL!)

...

Alley was in a peaceful sleep, curled up and covered with a soft blanket. She was dreaming of only good things like fluffy white clouds and bright stars and other things one might find in a whimsical dream such as Alley's. It seemed, for that moment at least, that nothing could rouse her easily. The sun streaming through the curtains had no effect on her and she barely felt the breeze from the half-open window. Alley was deep in the throes of a wonderful sleep.

Then the phone rang, the shrill sound cracking through the air like a shot and ripping Alley from her dream almost immediately. She sprung up into a sitting position and looked around, gasping for breath as she tried to identify the sound. When her brain focused and she realized it was the phone, she scrambled to get it and almost knocked her lamp over in the process.

"Hello?" she asked gruffly, still breathing hard at being jolted from sleep so suddenly.

"Mornin', luv!" came the cheery voice on the other end. "Rise and shine!"

Alley groaned and fell back onto her pillows. "Lennon, if it's before ten, you will never be able to play the guitar again!" She ignored the laugh on the other end and glanced at her clock. "10:01. You just made it."

The screeching laugh filled her ear once more, causing her to shake her head but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Looking over at Cass to make sure she didn't wake her, she lowered her voice to a whisper-just in case. "So," she said, "what can I help you with this morning?"

"We're supposed to be friends again now, yeah?"

Alley suppressed a snort. Leave it to John to put things in such a delicate matter-not. "Yeah, John."

"I have band practice later this afternoon," John answered matter-of-factly.

"I'm ecstatic for you," Alley said dryly, pulling at the phone cord that had gotten twisted with her hair. She finally got it free. Again she added dryly, "Really, I am!"

John chuckled. "Fuckin' retard child! Let me finish! Let's meet before that. At the tree. Yeah?"

Alley was silent as she thought about it. Would it be like old times when they used to meet each other? Or would it be awkward and would they make useless small talk just to pass the time? She wasn't sure but she felt like she needed to find out. A part of her still needed John and she couldn't just let him go that easily. Sighing, with a confidence that she didn't really have, Alley said, "Sure. I'll see you there."

A few insults and a short conversation later, Alley hung up the phone. As she stretched to place it in it's cradle, she lost her balance and fell off the bed, half landing on Cass.

Cassidy woke with a start, her mind still stuck in sleep mode and her body unaccustomed to her surroundings. She let out a yelp, flailing her arms out to the side and whacking whatever heavy object that had fallen on her with her utmost strength. Finally, her mind cleared just enough for her to realize that it was, in fact, her friend that had fallen on her.

"Lay off the cheesecake, will ya Al?" she hissed, cranky from being woken so abruptly.

Sighing, she sat up a little, only to slam right back into the nest of blankets that she had set up on the floor. Every single inch of her body ached; the roots of her hair, her arm muscles, even...well, even something that only hurts on the rare occasion. Pushing Alley off of her, she gasped quietly as she saw the fingertip sized bruises that lined her wrists.

She was about to show Alley when it all came back to her.

Quickly, she slid her wrists under the blankets and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think deeply. She hoped Alley wouldn't notice the sudden change in the atmosphere in the room. Was it just her, or had it suddenly become twenty degrees cooler? She tried her best to stifle a deep shudder, but it racked her body regardless. And after that first one poked through her line of defense, she couldn't stop. She turned away from Alley, shuddering, and opened her eyes wide, no longer wanting to think deeply, no longer wanting to think at all.

Holy shit, had that really happened to her last night?

Alley stood up from being pushed off Cass and straightened her clothes before throwing herself onto her bed. It made a tiny cracking noise and she made an "oh shit" face for a second. But when the bed didn't collapse and splinter into a thousand pieces, she figured it was safe. She looked down Cass and was immediately worried. Cass did not look anything like she normally would and Alley picked it up right away. She flipped over her bed and sat down beside her friend.

"What is it?"

Cass immediately jumped, too lost in her thoughts to realize what was going on. When Alley touched her, all she could feel were cold, grimy hands, pulling her closer...closer...

Gasping, she felt tears start to form in her eyes as she remembered what he had done to her. And that sick fuck had stuck her right back on the floor to fall asleep in his step-sister's room. A gnawing, nauseous feeling started growing in her belly. She had to get out of there, and she had to get out of there fast.

"I want to see Paul," she announced in a voice that was foreign to even her. It was high, unusually shrill. Nothing like her normal laid back tone. "Maybe we'll talk later."

Without a glance back, she raced to the door, already preparing herself mentally for having to see that dreaded face again downstairs, where he would no doubt leer over her again behind a bottle of beer and a fringe of red hair. Swallowing roughly, she pounded down the stairs and pulled the door open, not even bothering to close it as she leaped down all four front steps at once.

Alley sat frozen in place, staring at her bedroom door where Cass had so quickly exited from. She didn't even have a chance to get to her feet, let alone chase her. Standing then, she looked out her window and watched as Cass practically speed down the street. Stepping away from the window and looking at her own reflection in the mirror, Alley shrugged.

"Must be that time of the month for her, then."

…

Cassidy's feet immediately decided to take her along the well-memorized short-cut that led straight to her house. That was good, since she was most relying on her feet to do the walking, as her brain was in a completely different place at the moment.

She kept running through the night in her mind. Again and again, she watched as Garrett grabbed her from behind that doorway, stuffed his hand over her mouth, and carried her back to his room. She would have woken the whole house up, had he not shoved that pillow over her face, letting it up only enough for her to get oxygen before plunging it back down again. After a while, she was shocked into such a silence that she could no longer make any sound come out of her throat.

Cass roughly pushed a tear from her cheek as she stomped across the street, her house plainly in front of her. It looked serene, beautiful in the new morning light. It was easily the biggest house on the block, what with her father's stored away money still paying the bills. The yard looked carefully maintained, and her mother's garden was pristine, as usual. However, the turmoil that went on _inside_ the house was just a little bit too much for her at the moment.

So, instead of continuing inside, she curtly turned on her heel and followed the sidewalk, once again letting her feet take her wherever it was that she was going.

She hoped to God it wasn't Alley's house.

For the millionth time that morning, a cold fear crept onto her skin, making her shiver. How would she ever be able to go back there? How could she ever face Alley again? How could she tell Alley that her step-brother—someone she hadn't been minding so much since he killed Royce—had…had…

Cassidy wouldn't let herself think the word. She was not a victim, nor would she ever play to be one. That was just not her take on life. So, then, how could she have let that happen to herself? She felt dirty and sick, used and then carefully put back where she had presumably been the entire night. Did he think that she would forget? Did he think he had shocked her into total silence?

"Cassidy?"

Cass looked up, realizing she was standing in front of Paul's house. She let a deep sigh escape her mouth, and she reached up to run her hands through her hair. The soothing effect it usually had never washed over her.

"Cassidy?" Mr. McCartney repeated, standing in the driveway next to his car and giving her a funny look. "Why are you here so early?"

She blinked several times, probably appearing as a total dumbass. What could possibly be her excuse? "I'm here for Paul," she said blankly, noting that there was absolutely no tone to her voice. She sounded like a zombie.

Mr. McCartney glanced down at his wristwatch. "It's only eight thirty, I don't think he's up yet."

He gave her a quick once over, and Cass realized that she must look like a mess.

"No," she answered quickly, trying to think fast. It hurt her brain. "I told him yesterday that I was going to be coming over around nine. I'm just a little early."

Paul's father looked at her for a long time, as though calculating whether she was lying blatantly or if she could somehow be tell the truth. After a minute, he, too, let out a sigh and gave her a helpless wave. "He never tells me anything anymore," he muttered under his breath, opening the door to his car and giving Cassidy a small wave.

She watched him back out, then drive all the way down the block. She only moved forward once he turned the corner and was out of sight. Knowing that he was asleep, Cass walked around the side of the house to his bedroom window. Somewhere in her mind, she knew it was a slight invasion of privacy, but in her current numb state she wasn't thinking on rational terms. Using a bush as leverage, she managed to reach up just high enough to give the window a good yank. Thankfully, it was open, and it let out a loud squeal as the old wood moved against wood.

With another great leap, she propelled herself forward and shot through the open space, landing on Paul's hamper and falling into his dirty clothes with a low grunt. When she finally stood up, Paul was sitting straight up in bed, staring at her. He looked terrified.

"What the f_uck _are you doing?" he hissed, throwing off his covers and moving to help her up. "Haven't you ever heard of a door?"

Cass stared up into his sleepy hazel eyes, a feeling of protection washing over her. Paul wouldn't let _anybody _hurt her. "I wanted to see you, but your dad said that you were sleeping." Once again, her voice came out as a monotone, slightly scratchy from all the attempted yelling that she did last night.

"You could have knocked," he said, slightly exasperated. As they both straightened up, Cassidy noted for the first time that he wasn't wearing anything but boxer shorts. She felt a flutter in her stomach as she took in his bare chest, his bedhead, and the baby stubble that had sprouted on his upper lip. The last time she had seen him like this…well…she had woken up _in _his bed.

Suddenly, Cass longed to kiss him. She longed for him to hold her in his arms, she longed for him to allow her to cry her eyes out on his chest. She wanted to be with him, body and soul, to cleanse herself of the monster that overtook her last night. Unexpectedly, she felt as though she had cheated on Paul. She had to make it up to him.

Lunging forward, she threw herself onto her boyfriend, melding their mouths together before he could even draw breath. She knocked him back onto his unmade bed, noting that it was still warm from his body. She felt intoxicatingly comfortable, so very protected, and when he tried to pull away she protested by locking herself to him once again.

"Cassidy," he breathed, his hands coming up to brush her hair away from her face. "Cass—no, stop it."

Paul put his hands on either of her cheeks, then gently pushed up. Her mouth came off of his in a sort of awkward suctioning sound, but she didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed.

"C'mon, Paul…" she mumbled, her eyes scouring his entire face, drinking in his familiar features. Her body longed for him, and her hands longed to reach out and touch him. When he let go of her face, she felt strangely empty.

"What is the matter with you?" he asked sharply, brow furrowing. "I thought we were gonna take this slow? Don't you remember what happened last time?"

She made a scoffing noise in the back of her throat. "We're older now. More mature." She ran her hands through his thick, messy hair; over his full, bulbous cheeks; across his smooth, pale chest. "I _want _you."

Many conflicting emotions washed across Paul's face, never staying in place long enough for Cassidy's diluted brain to read them. She hardly even knew what she was saying anymore; anything she thought would get him to do it.

Finally, physical want seemed to outweigh Paul's conscious. Typical boy. "Cass—I just…are you sure?"

"I need this."

"What?"

"I need you."

He stared at her for just a moment later—as though his conscious was still battling with him—because nodding lightly and letting a small smile slip onto his lips. "I love you, Cassidy."

A warm feeling washed over her then, one that she knew she was going to become addicted to. It washed away the fear, pain, and grime that had been embedded into her bones, heated the cold, crawling feeling that had been living on her skin, and brought an honest answer to her lips. "I love you, too."

Without further ado, Paul brought his mouth to her hers and kissed her deeply. She let herself fold into him, craving his warmth and protection. Wrapping his arms around her, he let his hand slowly trail down her hair, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

A flashback from the previous night hit her then: Garrett throwing her down onto his bed, shoving his pillow over her face, pinning her body to the bed with his body, and slowly running his hand down the length of her bare arm.

She gasped, throwing her head back suddenly. The warm, comfortable feeling was gone, replaced by the grimy, dirty feeling and a sickness in her stomach.

"What's wrong?" Paul asked gently, lifting his hand again to touch hers.

She leapt backwards, tumbling off the bed. His hand still lingered in the air, and he sat up with a look of surprise. "Cassidy?"

She stood up quickly, straightening her blouse and pulling her hair back again. She didn't look at him, instead focusing her eyes on the floor and not saying a word.

Paul stood up again, his features deeply rooted with concern. He took a step forward, extending his arms. God, how much she wanted to just wrap herself in them and let him hold her, whispering sweet things into her ear until she drifted off. The want was there again, but now her body knew better. Him touching her meant thinking about what had happened.

"Please, Cassidy. Please tell me what's wrong. You're confusing me."

The look he was giving her made her feel immeasurable bad, but she couldn't. She couldn't admit what had happened to her, because saying it out loud would mean it had really happened. No, Paul could never know of the filthy deed. He would never look at her the same.

"I have to go," she whispered, her voice coming out raspy and toneless. "I'm not…I'm not f-feeling well."

"I don't understand—"

But Cassidy had already turned around, trying to maintain the calmness in her walk. She was desperate to break out into a run, but refused to do so until she was fully out the door. Paul made no move to stop her as she exited his room, made her way through his house, and closed the door on the way out.

…

Paul stood in the doorway of his bedroom, his brow furrowed and confusion littering his handsome features. It was great that Cassidy wanted to become so intimate all of a sudden, but it was a kind of an abrupt change. What was wrong with her? He remembered the frantic look in her eyes as she kissed him, the way she jumped when he touched her. He shook his head slowly, hearing the front door bang shut.

He had to get to the bottom of this.

Quickly, he pulled on a shirt and padded into the kitchen, dialing Alley's number and waiting patiently for the ringing to stop.

Alley was in her kitchen, opening the fridge door for the seventh time in hopes that something new would magically appear. Disappointed when everything was the same, she slammed the fridge door shut in frustration and stood with her hands on her hips. Before she could open the cupboard, the phone rang. She ran to it, grabbing it after the fourth ring.

"How may I help you?"

"Alley?" Paul asked, staring at his disheveled appearance in the floor length mirror that resided in his living room. He grimaced when he saw that his usually neat, Teddy boy hair was mused. "I need to talk to you about something."

Alley sighed and leaned against the wall, bracing herself for what she felt was going to be a serious conversation. After all, what happy conversation began with '_I need to talk to you about something?'_ "What is it?" she asked, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger.

"It's Cassidy. She came over to my house this afternoon, and she was acting..." He thought about saying 'seductive', but he felt like Alley and he really weren't at the point in their friendship where he could say things like that about her best friend and things wouldn't get awkward. "...weird."

"Umm," Alley said, not quite knowing what else to say to that. Cass did act differently that morning but Alley didn't think much of it. Girls were prone to moods sometimes and she figured Cass had just woken up feeling a bit off. "Umm," Alley said again, thinking of what she could say. "Define weird."

Paul leaned against the kitchen counter, wrapping a hand around his forehead to keep his brain from exploding. God, this was uncomfortable. "She just...she wanted..." He took a deep breath. "She wanted to do things that we talked about not doing for a while."

"What?" Alley said, confused at Paul's cryptic description. "Do things? Do things like wha-oh...oh! Eww, Paul!" She forced the mental image that he had just given her out of her head. "I don't want to know!"

"You're the one that asked!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "And that's really not the point-the point is that I'm worried about her. Did anything...I don't know...happen this morning? Or last night?"

Alley thought a moment about the previous night. It wasn't unlike any other sleepover she and Cass had had in the past. "No," she said, with a shake of her head. "Nothing. I mean, I fell asleep relatively early but what could have happened in my house? Although..." Alley paused, going over the morning's events in her mind. "I thought she was just moody. But she seemed really jumpy this morning. Ran out of my house like it was on fire."

Paul bit his lip, unsure. "She wouldn't talk to me when I asked her if she was okay. Maybe it's all the stuff with her dad coming back up again, you know? She took it so well then, maybe it's just starting to effect her now, a decent amount of time later. You know?"

Alley sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She was beginning to get worried now. "Yeah, maybe, I don't know," she said, uncertainty in her voice. "Maybe it's something else. Then again, maybe she just wanted to...you know...with you."

"Why all of a sudden, though?" he wondered aloud. "She literally jumped on me, and as soon as I started to react, she freaked out. I just don't get it." He glanced again at his reflection; the boy that looked back at him appeared exhausted.

"My head wants to chock it up to fucked up hormones but..." Alley let the statement die off, not quite knowing how to put what she was feeling into words. She groaned and slid down the wall so that she was sitting on the floor. "I have no idea, Paul. Honestly. Something bloody well happened to her."

Paul was quiet for a few minutes, considering this. Even after Alley had come to this conclusion, there was still nothing they could do about it. "We'll just give her some time," he said finally, his voice becoming very low. "We'll just take a step back for a little while, and if we notice anything else strange...well, we'll make her talk to us. But right now, I think she just needs to be alone."

"I reckon you're right," Alley said. "She'll come to us whenever she's ready to talk." It was silent for a few seconds but when Alley's gaze travelled to the clock she exclaimed, "Shit is that the time? I told John I'd meet him soon."

Paul smiled, in spite of himself. "Oh, really? Goin' on a date with your Just Friend?"

Alley felt a smile come on her face but she didn't let her tone betray that. "Oh come on, Paul! Don't give me a hard time. We _are _just friends!"

He let out a small chuckle, nodding although he knew she couldn't see him. "Sure, I know. Have fun with Johnny-Poo, then."

Alley scoffed. "Paul...Paulie? Would you like to be the only Beatle who sings in a permanent soprano?"

He ignored her, still smiling. "Bye, bye, Alley!" Before she could say anything else, he hung up the phone. He let out a chuckle as he turned around, ready to head back into his room and pull out his guitar. But just as he was turning, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror, and the smile slipped right off his face.

He still had a lipstick mark on his lower jaw from Cassidy. Paul reached his hand up, touching it softly. It reminded him of how much he loved her, and how he hoped to God she was okay.

…

Cass opened the door to her house slowly, biting her lip and looking around her quickly. When she didn't see anybody, she took a silent step forward, still careful not to alert her mom or her sister of her entrance. Everything in the house looked like it had just two days ago, when she had been here last. Same beige color scheme, same clean, orderly appearance, same family photos lining the walls of the front hall.

Relieved, she took a step forward and then turned around to close the door. When she faced forward again, she came face to face with a stern looking Cecilia.

"Long time no see," she hissed, arms crossed tight over her chest and disproving glare in full power.

Cassidy's still frazzled mind whirred, and she blinked several times. Long time no see? Why was Cecilia so upset? Did she know about what happened at Alley's house?

At this thought, Cass closed her eyes quickly. No, she wasn't allowed to think about that. It was an off-limits topic, even in her own brain.

"Hi, Cecilia."

Cecilia scrunched up her nose, squaring her shoulders as Cassidy tried to shove past her. "Mam was freaking out; you didn't call, didn't leave a note. You could have been dead or—or, I don't know—"

"I'm fine."

"Awesome! That's really, really great, Cassidy, but that doesn't change the fact that Mam is going insane with worry—"

"I said, I'm fine."

Cass shoved her sister with her shoulder, then continued on to the stairs, wanting nothing more than to wrap herself in her duvet and forget about everything that had happened within the past forty-eight hours.

"You know what, Cassidy? You're really making it hard on Mam, what with Da being gone and everything. And as for being a big sister, well, you're not really doing so hot on that front, either."

Cecilia's voice sounded tight, strained, and Cass could tell she was about to burst into tears.

Cassidy stopped on the stairs, staring straight ahead where she could almost just see the door to her room awaiting her. But something in Cecilia's tone stopped her, some inflection that was different than before.

Seeing her stop, Cecilia continued. "You don't have to be such a—a bitch _all the time_. It's not like we did anything to you."

Now it was just too much. Cassidy turned around, seeing that Cecilia's eyes were shiny with tears. "Since when do you give a fuck?" she hissed, her voice lined with malice.

"What?"

"Since when did you start caring about me? Or what happened to Da, for that matter? All you ever cared about was being perfect, blemish-free Cecilia. And you have that, you're exactly who you want to be. So just stop, okay?" She shook her head, a scowl slipping onto her face.

The reprimanding look on Cecilia's face fell, replaced with the usual hard one that Cass remembered. "Maybe I want to change."

Cassidy rolled her eyes over-dramatically, making a disdainful noise in the back of her throat. "Oh, please. You want to talk about me being so God-forsaking awful? Look in the mirror, sis. Once a bitch, always a bitch."

She had to admit it; her words were harsh, even though they were true. Was Cecilia truly that naïve? Did she honestly think that Cassidy was the one in the wrong in their dysfunctional family? She couldn't help it though; the filter that she usually kept special for this type of situation had disappeared. She felt…cold.

Cecilia looked down, apparently at a loss for words. In her defense, what do you say to an accusation that is, undoubtedly, true? After a full minute, she looked up into her sister's hard glare. "Can you please just tell me something?"

Cass sighed, shrugging instead of gracing her with any words at all.

"Why…why doesn't George like me anymore?"

She sounded like a little girl—her voice higher than usual, quieter, almost shy. It completely caught Cassidy off-guard, but still the filter wasn't there, and she had no intention of holding back.

"This may come as a shock to you," she said slowly, watching Cecilia carefully, "but some people don't like being used over, and over, and over, and…" She stopped narrowing her eyes a little bit. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not the only person who is sick and tired of your act."

And with that, she turned and stomped up the stairs. She had just pulled open her bedroom door when she heard her sister's distant call. "But I'm trying to change!" She couldn't help but notice the heavy voice crack at the very end of the sentence, or the muffled sobs that followed it. She slammed her door regardless, and instantly collapsed upon her bed.

…

Liverpool was unusually clear that day.

Alley lay on the thickest branch of the tree she always ran to when she wanted to be alone. In fact, she had adopted that trait from John who, in his anger or sadness or pain tended to do the same. It had once been their tree and perhaps it still was. To Alley, it seemed like this tree, with its rough, cracked bark and bright green leaves, was the only unchanging thing in her rather fast-paced, constantly changing life. She could come back to this tree anytime and sit, touching the branches and pulling off the leaves, and feel like everything was as it used to be. It was a feeling that only lasted when she was up in the tree because the moment her feet touched the grass, she was back in her reality.

Alley wasn't that keen on living in reality, or at least the one that was hers. It seemed to her that the people around her were growing and changing, their lives becoming better and opportunities arising at every turn for them. And while her friends were going through such marvellous changes and passionate romances, Alley felt like she was stuck at a standstill; not going anywhere or doing anything. Everything was spinning around her like a big tornado and she remained the same. She didn't understand why she couldn't change with them.

Alley let out a sigh as she stared up into the clear blue sky. _Was there another world beyond the clouds? _she wondered. Was there someone in that world sitting on a tree and wondering where her life was the way it was? Or was Alley alone in her thinking and meant to suffer through it in her own mind? Groaning then, she took her gaze from the sky and focused on the bottom of the tree and the person who was sitting there. For a few seconds, she felt as if she was propelled into the past, for the way he sat was just the way he used to sit when they made their daily visits to their tree. His back was against the thick trunk, wisps of his hair falling onto his forehead as he concentrated on the guitar draped across his lap.

Alley watched him, studied his every feature. She couldn't help the sigh of longing and wanting that escaped her lips. Luckily for her, he didn't hear. Their relationship, for lack of a better word, had been going well lately. As promised, they remained friends, staying together like they used to. But, as to be expected, it was a different feeling that hung around them. John only came when he wasn't with Cynthia and when they parted ways he most likely was going to see Cynthia. Alley couldn't be completely joking and carefree, for the feelings she felt for him sometimes plagued her thoughts and caused her to be more moody than usual. But nonetheless it was a good friendship and Alley was glad to have one with him at all.

John was concentrating on his guitar, painstakingly trying to work out the tune that was playing in his head relentlessly. After what seemed like an hour, in reality it had only been twenty minutes, he stopped and laid his guitar at his side. He turned his gaze upwards, looking at Alley lying on the tree's branch. As he turned his eyes towards her, he caught her looking away and figured she had been staring at him for a while. He couldn't help but chuckle at that, though inside he was conflicted. Their earlier agreement about remaining friends suited him well; he loved Cynthia, there was no doubt about it but still, there was something in him that still felt for Alley. But friendship was better than no communication or relationship at all. And he wasn't about to ruin it.

Alley and John were both notorious for being not forthcoming with their emotions and feelings and because of it both didn't mention a thing and instead worked at keeping the mood light and fun.

"Do you plan on staying up there all fuckin' day?" John called upwards, keeping his gaze on Alley.

"Yes, actually," Alley replied with her usual sarcasm. She positioned herself so that she was still lying down but also looking at him. "I just might move in. Live up here. Though I reckon it'd be hard to find food up here."

John snorted, the laughing sound not quite making it out of his lips. "And to take a shit!"

She grinned but suppressed the laugh, choosing to make her voice steady as she said in a posh voice, "Oh very classy, Lennon. _Very _classy."

"I've had lessons, you know."

"Right!" Alley said with a scoff. She locked her legs around the thick branch and swung herself around it so she was hanging upside down in front of him. "Hello, Johnny!"

John raised his eye-brows at her and with a grin said, "Doesn't the blood rush to your head, luv?"

"I'm bored," she said plainly, ignoring his remark. "Make me un-bored."

John didn't answer right away but got caught in staring into her eyes. Alley felt herself doing the same and they stayed like that, looking into each other's eyes. It seemed like this staring contest was going on forever but neither of them could take their eyes off each other. They seemed entranced, their eyes locked together as if a curse had befallen them. But when both began to slowly move towards each other, an alarm sounded inside of Alley and she lost her hold on the tree. She fell then, a scream escaping her throat and she shut her eyes as she anticipated the pain. But the pain never came. John, seeing that she was falling, grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her as her legs came apart from the tree. She landed in his lap, her heart beating fast.

"Whoa," she said, looking into his eyes again. This time she broke the gaze and realizing she was on his lap, scrambled off him quickly and sat on the ground near him. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"So…." Alley said, desperate to break the silence. "Make any progress on the guitar?"

John shook his head, a brooding expression taking over his face. "No. Bloody fuckin' thing isn't doing what I want it to. I've got a song in me head-it's not coming out."

Alley nodded in sympathy. "That sucks," she said, playing with a piece of grass she plucked out of the ground.

Again, it was silent between then but it wasn't an awkward silence. It was comfortable. Both were lost in their own thoughts, their minds travelling through time and space while their eyes stared at nothing. John broke out of his thoughts first and staring at Alley, he began to feel a bit mischievous. He grinned, and not being able to hold back, he got Alley's attention.

"Alley?

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you a few questions?"

"No."

"Fuck you. Come on!"

Ally sighed and leaned her elbow on the ground and her head in her palm. "Okay. What the fuck do you want, Lennon?"

John smiled smugly and leaned forward, propped up on both elbows. "Who do you think is the best singer in the band?"

Alley raised her eye-brows and gave him a look. "Umm…why?" Off his look, she shook her head and thought for a moment. "I don't know….uh….you I guess."

"Why thank you!" John said, that smug smile still on his lips. "All right, moving on-"

"Ugh! There's more?" Alley whined.

"Yes! Now shut-up," John said, poking her shoulder. "Who do you think plays better in the band?"

Alley gave an overdramatic groan of frustration. "I don't know! Fuckin' all of you are good! Can you leave me alone now?"

"No!" John said, his expression one of mock seriousness. "There is only more question. And you must answer with the upmost honesty! Do you promise?"

"Fuck me. Yes, yes I fucking promise!," Alley said exasperatedly."Now get on with it, you tosser!"

John laughed and with a mischievous glint in his eye said, "Now, truthfully Alley, who's better in bed, me or George?"

Alley's mouth dropped open and she blinked, looking completely and utterly dumbfounded for a few moments. John, having taken one look at her, rolled onto his back and began to laugh so hard he couldn't breathe. Tears were streaming sideways down his face and he was slapping his leg as the laughs continued to escape him.

"You are a fucking dick, Lennon!" Alley screamed when she broke out of her incredulous state. "I'm gonna kill you!"

She took the opportunity to punch him in the arm and he managed to say "ow" and "fuck" between gasps for air and bursts of laughter. Alley waited for him to stop, with her eye-brows raised and her arms folded across her chest. When he did eventually stop, he looked like he had been crying his eyes out. He sat up, mirroring her position.

"Oh come on!" he said with a smirk. "It was funny. Wasn't it?"

"No!" Alley said but she could already feel the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "It was not funny!"

"Then we are you smiling?"

"Fuck you!" Alley said but gave in and chuckled. "All right, so maybe you did catch me off guard but don't fucking joke about that!"

"Why, was Georgie that bad?"

"John!"

"He didn't satisfy did he?"

"John!"

"Not as good as me was he?"

"Fuck yourself."

John laughed but held up his hands in surrender. "All right, all right, I promise, no more!"

Alley breathed a visible sigh of relief and ignored the amusement she saw on John's face. "Fuckin' finally." She looked at her watch. "Don't you have a band practice like….5 minutes ago?"

John looked at his own watch and then groaned as he stood and grabbed his guitar. "Shit. I do. Well, then Miss Alley, we'll have to reconvene another time, I reckon."

Alley grinned up at him. "I reckon that as well, _Miss _John."

John shook his head and chuckled as he walked away. Alley remained, too lazy to move and also having nowhere to go. She considered climbing back onto the tree and lying there, trying to find something good on her transistor radio. There was nothing to be done at home and she didn't feel like going to Cass' house. Sighing, she stood and stretched and was just about to climb the tree when John called out to her.

"Alley!"

She spun around. "Yeah what?"

A sly and mischievous grin spread across John's face. "Between me and George…."

Alley felt herself tense up but didn't move. Slowly she said, "Yeah…."

John's grin seemed to grow bigger than humanly possible. "Whose dick is bigger?"

Alley allowed a few seconds for the comment to digest before she took off full speed after John, screaming at the top of her lungs,

"WAIT TILL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU LENNON!"

And so was the restored friendship of Alley and John, shaky and different for sure, but still having shades of the old.

…

Paul was scared for Cassidy.

It wasn't the usual kind of worry, either. Despite what he told Alley, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something deeper, something even bigger lurking before the surface and threatening to burst out at any moment. But what was it? For the life of him, he couldn't figure it out. Nothing had changed between today and yesterday, and yet she was acting worse than when her father died.

He was broken out of his trance by the blare of a horn. Apparently, he had forgotten about the one vital rule in crossing the street; don't get hit by a car. Shrugging off the incident, he tried to push thoughts of Cassidy a little but further from his mind. Right now, he had band practice with the lads, and they were sure to be able to tell if something was up. Besides, he really didn't feel like explaining the whole ordeal to them, as he would probably hear no end of the sex thing.

Paul was just walking up the front walk of Aunt Mimi's place when he happened to glance in the window, noting that all of his bandmates were already seated and had their respective instruments pulled out. Paul narrowed his eyes at the stiff posture of John's "best friend", Stuart Sutcliffe and the rather hunched figure of Pete Best. Really, he didn't know much about either of them, except that Pete annoyed him to all ends and Stu and John were inseparable these days. Bitter? Nahh, not him.

Just as he climbed the few remaining steps up the front door, the door was thrown open seemingly by itself, until he noticed the fiery figure of John Lennon standing there, looking extremely cross.

John stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and his mouth set with angry determination. The usual, laughing jovial manner he had about him was gone and he looked furious enough to make the devil shrink into the shadows and never want to come out. He looked his friend up and down and raised his eye-brows ever so slightly.

"Well?"

"Sorry," was all Paul said, trying to ignore the daggers that were shooting out of John's eyes. Their band leader didn't have many rules, but he was adamant about not being late to practice. Paul, a guy who liked to take his time, was not usually on good terms with that particular rule.

"Sorry?" John echoed. He shook his head as if this answer was not good enough for him. Well, it wasn't. John didn't ask for much to begin with and he felt that his friends should at least do what he did ask for. "Hey did you hear that, lads?" John called behind him to George, Pete and Stu. "Paulie here is _sorry._" He looked his friend up and down once more then said, "Be sorry out here," and slammed the door in his face.

Paul sighed. Fuck. Not again. With a resigned sigh, he turned around and settled down on the porch steps. George would be around soon enough to let him in.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, the door creaked open, and little Georgie Harrison stood there, a nervous look on his face. "John's pissed, and he went to fix himself a little drink. Hurry up."

So, without another word, Paul slipped through the open door, closed it carefully, and assumed position on the rug as though the door had never been slammed in his face at all.

Stuart made eye-contact with Paul as he came into the room and began setting up his bass. Once he caught Paul's eye, he couldn't help but feel the tiniest of smirks form on his lips.

"Let's go fuck-wits," John said walking back into the room with an already half-drunken beer in his hand. Of course, he had none for the others and he didn't offer. He through himself back into his seat and grabbed his guitar.

Paul glowered to himself, seeing that tiny little smirk on Stu's face. It bothered him to no end that Stu could just waltz in here and attempt to play an instrument that he was obviously shit at. He turned his head slightly, making eye contact with the ever-silent Pete Best.

"Do I got your fucking drums plastered to my face?" Paul growled at him, just low enough for the two of them to hear. He didn't need any more more smirks from Stuart the Great.

George pulled his guitar into his lap, looking to John for further instruction. For him, band practices were about learning the music, sucking up to John, and, ultimately, surviving. There was aways a fight in the beginning, before the music started, and usually it centered around Paul and John. Fucking drama queens.

"Do you look like a fucking silent band or what?" John growled, slamming his beer bottle down on the table hard enough to make a crack in it. "Let's fucking play something." He looked at Paul and Pete staring at each other. "Unless you two wanna have a quick fuck first?"

Paul made a point to roll his eyes before mumbling a quick, "It's nothing." Before John could tease him anymore, he pulled his guitar into his lap and started to strum out the first few chords of the song they had been working on for about a week. Instantly, the entire room seemed to cool down. Even John, who could be on-edge for something as little as Paul being late for practice, was soothed by the soft melody.

And that was the way it was. As soon as the music started to play, everything else was forgotten. Paul didn't think about what was wrong with Cassidy, how much he envied Stu, or how little he envied Pete. George didn't glance even _once _down at his sheet music, too involved in the lead guitar part he had finally been assigned.

It was almost a constant, for hot-headed John, easy going Paul, and timid George. No matter who they were before the chords, the melody, the frets, the harmonious sound backed up by the steady beat of Pete's drumsticks on the wooden floor; those people all melted away. They were one. They were sound, they were music.

Some might even say they were magic.

…

**Addie AN: **I love us. We do, in fact, rock.

**Catie AN: **And so the modesty begins.

**Addie AN: **We reached 17 chapters. It`s our right to be conceited. Sure, we were from the beginning. Minor details.

**Catie AN: **As long as we're being modest, "Some might even say they were magic"? Go Catie! Hahahaha, no but seriously. I think I speak for Addie and myself when I say that we've missed you tons. Both talking to you through these wondrous ANs, and speaking to you through the voices of Cass and Alley, John and Paul, and (of course) little Georgie.

**Addie AN: **That line did kick ass, I must say. But yes, Catie is completely right. We missed this and we are happy to be back in it! I`m gonna be truly sad when this fic is over. I love writing it. Hey...you know what I just noticed?

**Catie AN: **Hmm?

**Addie AN: **We are being nice to each other. That...that just does not happen. I'm scared. We owe it to our readers to fight and be nasty.

**Catie AN: **You're a lazy, good-for nothing bitch and I'm tired of pulling the weight around this story, and my characters are about three bazillion times better than yours. (Happy?)

**Addie AN: **(Extremely. And for the record:) My characters are way better. I mean, let's think of this for a second- John. LENNON. That already is enough. But then there's Alley. Yeah, we know she rocks. And Stuart-fucking-Sutcliffe. Among others. Don't delude yourself, child.

**Catie AN: **Yeah, yeah. We all know how I feel about John. But, Addie, I'm afraid we won't get too into this fight this evening, as I am tired and want to put this chapter up. It has been far, far too long. Do you want to say anything to the readers, in closing?

**Addie AN: **Sure, why not. Eat your vegetables. Say no to drugs. Don't drink and drive. Look both ways before crossing the street. Stay in school. Oh yeah and review.

**Catie AN: **Couldn't have said it better myself. (LOL JK yes I could have.) Thanks for being sooooo awesome guys. It really helps with the whole motivational thing. (That's my way of saying quicker reviews = quicker chapters. You know, just throwing that out there.)

BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!


	18. Chapter 18

**Catie AN: It's all Addie's fault.**

**Addie AN: Don't even try it.**

**Catie AN: Guys, I swear. If it were up to ME this would have been put out about...hm...three months ago? Yeah. We basically SUCK and I'm so, so sorry for that. Wait - hold on. Did I say we? Yeah, I meant SHE.**

**Addie AN: Mhmm. Right. Cause I was the one who was never on the computer. Yup, me. Oh, no, hang on a tick. That was YOU!**

**Catie AN: Yes. Well. I have a job and school and there was volleyball and my friends and general teenage stuff and - you know what? It has been something ridiculous like six months or like seven years or something since a chapter has been put up, and I, for one, feel as though we shouldn't be dwelling on all this negativity. So, without further ado...**

**|Addie AN: Read on.**

...

Life was one insane bitch.

Or, at least, that's what John Lennon thought.

It seemed that his life was constantly changing and moving; an experience that hardly gave him time to catch his breath. To him, it seemed like they had arrived home from Hamburg just yesterday whereas in reality it had been a few months. It seemed to him that the older he got, the more time passed quickly. He reckoned pretty soon he'd be an old man with his life already lived. But he decided to live in the now; to dive into the bright future he was sure he would have.

Life had been going pretty good since he and the band returned from Hamburg. He had everything a normal man could want-friends, a girlfriend, a seemingly successful band. Nothing major had happened and no bad luck had darkened his life in a long while.

As soon as he thought it, he immediately regretted it. A bad feeling crept into his stomach just then.

Somehow he knew something was going to go down.

...

"Wait-WHAT?" Alley stared at Cass in disbelief, not quite grasping what she had just revealed. She sat there, shaking her head and trying to make sense of it all. She nudged John who was equally shocked.

John leaned forward a bit as if he was hard of hearing. "Could you run that by me again, Freckles?"

Cassidy leaned forward, letting her head fall into her open palms. God damn Alley and her insisting that John could hear anything she could hear. She shook her head vigorously, trying not to cry. She had done enough crying yesterday, when the shock was new to her, too. "No, actually, unless you want me to break down in hysterics."

"No, no, no," Alley said, holding her hands up in front of her. "We don't want that." Alley was uncomfortable when people started to cry around her; she wasn't quite sure how to comfort them. "I just...I...umm...John?"

John looked uncomfortable and wide-eyed for a few seconds before mumbling, "What she fuckin' said."

"I just figured," Cassidy said slowly, as though measuring each word out carefully before letting it come out, "that I needed to tell someone that I trusted. And John," she added as an afterthought, inclining her head to him. "So far..." She stopped herself, though, sure that they wouldn't like the next words out of her mouth.

"So far what?" John echoed, motioning for her to finish her sentence. He sensed he wouldn't like it but his curiosity got the better of him as always.

"Come on, Cass," Alley said. "You fuckin' spilled everything, don't hold out on us now for Christ's sake!"

Cass let her head drop from her hands, her neck bent as she grimaced down at the table. She didn't quite know how to say these next words, and she didn't want to admit that she needed John's help at anything. She took a deep breath, and when it seemed like she was about to spit it out, she just shook her head and wrapped her hand around her burning face. It had taken so much guts to say what she just had, and now they wanted this from her? She wasn't sure if she could handle it.

John and Alley shared a look then. It was clear that Cass was going through a whole hell of a lot right then and she certainly didn't need two people hounding her. Alley made a face John, suggesting that they just drop it. John nodded and with a sigh of relief, sat back in his chair.

It was silent after that. The silence, while in actuality was only about thirty seconds or so felt like an hour and in that time, the tension continued to build steadily. After a while, Alley put her hand on Cass' shoulder.

"It's gonna be okay," she said although the uncertainty in her voice shone through. "Really. We're here."

Cassidy let her hands (which were, at this point, shaking uncontrollably) slap to the table, glaring at her best friend despite her comforting words. Her face was slick with tears, burning pink, contorted in a mix of emotions. "Alley, you don't understand; I haven't told him yet." She stopped abruptly, putting a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. "How can I just look a person in the eye and ruin his life like that?"

Alley opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She didn't understand, that was for sure. And she didn't know what to tell her best friend. John, who had been silent up until this point, felt his eye's go wide. In all the commotion and shock, he hadn't stopped to think about his friend and how it would affect him. For a flicker of a second, he thought. "_what will this mean for the band?" _but he quickly suppressed the thought.

Again, the silence fell over them, only interrupted by the gasps of Cass' breath as she tried to regain her self control.

For the first time, she allowed herself to look at John. It was all there, the very feelings she knew would be. She, Cassidy, had become just another roadblock in the way of the success of John Lennon's band. How dare she? How dare she inadvertently destroy his chances? But then, just as quickly as the glint in his eye appeared, it was gone.

"Please, John," she finally managed, her voice cracking painfully. "Please tell me what to say to him. Accept it or don't-I honestly don't care-but he's your best mate and you know him better than anybody else. Please, help me."

John sputtered for a moment before answering. "What... me? I don't fucking know what to say. You tell that to any bloke and he'll fucking faint or run for the bloody hills!"

Alley slugged John in the arm. "Fuck, John, not very helpful!" She turned to Cass and this time, she had no uncertainty in her voice. "Listen, Cass. Paul loves you, yeah? So you just gotta tell him. And trust that if he loves you, he'll do the right thing."

That was the very moment where she should have come clean, where she could relieve the pricking pain of her subconscious. But, no. Cassidy Farrell was not brave, nor was she looking for any more drama in her life than there already was. So she did not do the right thing and tell the truth, but took the clean, coward's way out. "I just can't do it. I can picture the look he's gonna give me, the-the things he's gonna say." Her face crumpled, and she wiped away her tears quickly. "This fucking sucks."

"You need to tell him now," Alley said in a firm tone of voice. "There's no point in beating yourself up later. You gotta fucking tell him."

"Yeah," John added. He looked a bit pale but he nodded as if to confirm his answer. "Yeah, yeah. You gotta fucking tell him. Alley's right. I know what I'd do if I was him. But Paul's fucking better than I am. Tell him."

Cass sucked in a deep breath. "But what if-I don't know, I'm just-I don't really...God. What if I didn't tell him? What you guys just left on that trip like you were supposed to and-and when he came back..." Her voice trailed off, the desperation littered so violently throughout it that she herself cringed.

"You can't," Alley said. She studied her best friend's face. "And you know you won't."

"I know," she said softly, her watery eyes focused somewhere between Alley's hand and John's elbow on the table before her. "But..."

She let the word hang in the air, suspended between all three of them. Each knew what it meant to themselves personally, Cass more than Alley, but John more than Alley, too. It hurt. It wasn't fair. It was that "if only" statement that only weak people dare to dream about. Cassidy heaved a heavy sigh, knowing she could never think about that "but" again. She had made her decisions, and others had been made for her, totally out of her control.

In the end, it is what it is.

Alley looked at John once again. For once, she had no idea what to say. John pointed to his wrist, indicating that he had to go. Alley looked at Cass for a moment before looking back at him and nodding. John let out a long stream of breath that he had been holding in and stood.

"I've, uh, got to go," John said, backing away from the table and heading for the door. He turned when he reached it. "Band practice, you know?"

There was something about the shifty way he said it that set off all of Cass's alarms. "John," she burst, just as he was walking out the door. She made eye contact with him, fixing him in a steely grip with her eyes. "Don't you dare tell him before I do. I mean it."

John nodded slowly and locked eyes with her. "I won't, Cass."

After saying that, he was gone.

There was a brief pause in which Cassidy stood up, walked out of her dining room, and peeked out the front window. No, her mom still hadn't arrived home, which was illustrated clearly by the lack of a car in the driveway. A sense of relief washing over her, she stepped back into the dining room and retook her seat next to Alley.

"She's not home yet," she said dully, not even bothering to raise her eyes to her friend's.

"Are you going to tell her?" Alley asked, not bothering on beating around the bush. She wanted to help her friend and slowly ease her through her shock but in a situation like this, decisions are better made sooner rather than later.

Cass let out an agitated noise. "Of course I'm going to tell her." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, reaching up to wipe a stray tear out of her eye. "Eventually."

"Eventually?" Alley asked softly. She did her best not to raise her voice. The last thing she needed was to have Cass retreat even further into herself. "When do you reckon eventually is, Cass?"

"Soon." She shrugged, knowing that Alley wasn't too pleased with her. "I don't know, Al. Okay? I just don't know. There's a lot of things I don't really understand going on right now..." She kind of muttered that last part under her breath, hoping that Alley didn't really hear. There were some secrets she was positive that she would take to the grave.

"Fine," Alley said, feeling her temper begin pulling at her. She took a breath and willed herself to be calm. "Did you give any fucking thought to what you're going to do? After? Or...well...is there...going to be an after?"

Cass blinked. Of course, she had thought through all of these things a million times. But now that it came down to it, and she actually had to speak the words, they seemed to be getting stuck in her throat. "Well, I...of course." She blinked, frowned a little. "Of course," she said a bit more confidently.

"Well good," Alley said, visibly relieved. "At least...well at least you know that much. You know how I feel about that." A few seconds of silence and a long exhale of breath later, Alley spoke again. She felt tired and like she knew too much of something she wished she, and Cass, didn't have to be a part of. "So...what now?" she said, looking at her friend. "What now, Cass?"

Cass shrugged, the headlights of a car shining through a window in the other room. She sighed heavily, feeling as though the weight of the entire a world-a world she would never get to experience-was on her shoulders. She wasn't ready to tell her mom. She knew what that would lead to-fights, perhaps her getting kicked out, maybe even that option she hadn't even considered.

She looked at Alley, her best friend in the entire world, someone she knew would always be beside her. "I guess I have to tell Paul now." The words tasted cheap and dirty, like the smell of Garrett's cologne.

…

John sighed to himself again and muttered yet another curse when he messed up the chords for the fourth time. He was sitting in Paul's house, by the front window as always, and trying to work out the chords for one of the songs that they were working on. It was a tune that Paul had written himself. John was supposed to be helping him but the events of the past hour kept flooding his brain; it made it hard to do anything, let alone play. He gave Paul an apologetic look and tried again. He didn't get that far before messing up again. Finally, he leaned the guitar against the chair he was sitting in and sat back.

Paul glanced up, his brow furrowed deeply. "What's the matter with you today?" he asked, leaning his head on the flat part of his guitar but not pushing the music he was working on away; whenever John had a problem, it was never something too deeply rooted. Those types of things didn't alter his musical ability, and if they did John probably wouldn't play music at all. No, Paul was sure there was just something hovering in his mind.

John looked up. He shrugged. "Nothing. Just-I don't know-fucking tired." His eyes didn't quite meet Paul's and he hoped that his friend didn't notice.

Paul raised his eyebrows. "Tired," he repeated skeptically. "Okay."

John just nodded and continued to sit there. He cast a glance towards his guitar but didn't move to pick it up. Most of the time, he'd throw himself into playing music to get away from his problem. But this time, he didn't have the concentration nor the will to play. He didn't know what to do or say. And being around Paul made it worse.

John's silence started to worry Paul. Everyone who met John knew that when he was thinking about something, everybody else ended up thinking about it, too. The fact that he wouldn't spill was concerning. "Did something happen with...Cyn? Or Alley? Or...something?"

"What?" John asked, squinting. He had once again forgotten to bring his glasses along and so he was blind as a bat. Scratch that-a bat could see better. He shook his head. "No, no. Nothing happened. Everything's...fine." His voice betrayed him, though. It suggested something entirely different.

"What happened?" Paul said again, his voice stronger this time, more assertive. Nothing was ever "fine" in John's world. There was always something to complain about.

"Bloody fucking hell, Paulie!" John exclaimed, throwing his hands up before him. "There's nothing wrong. Nothing happened. Can't a bloke be fucking tired?"

Paul studied his friend's face, eyes narrowed, chin still propped up. "Sure," he finally allowed, sitting back. "Sure, you can just be tired."

He repositioned his guitar in his lap, fixed his fingers on a fret, and let his fingers strum down over the strings. The chord sounded out of tune, ugly. Paul stopped the vibrations with the flat palm of his hand, chomping down on his full lower lip and not looking at John.

"So...would you ever leave the band?" John said suddenly. He regretted it as soon as it came out and he cursed internally for having said it so bluntly. He watched Paul's face and hoped he wouldn't find the question too suspicious.

Paul blinked, the question nor the implications of it not really sinking in. "No, never," he answered back immediately, solemnly. "It's the only thing I really care about these days. Besides Cass," he added quickly, shooting a glance down at his hands.

"Right," John replied, nodding. Paul mentioning Cass seemed to feed his worry even more. "Well...what if something happened? Something that would make you stay?"

Again, Paul didn't realize what he was truly being asked. He just shrugged, half-smiling. "What do you mean, 'something that would make me stay'? Listen, mate; there is nothing in the world I'd rather do than play music. Nothing."

John didn't know what to say right then. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to just tell Paul; save his friend from being shocked later. But-he couldn't. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath and then, after a long exhale, he opened them again. Once again, he was met with his friend's confused face. He looked down at his lap.

"Something," John repeated. He bit his lip, unsure of how to elaborate. "What if you were to get married?"

Paul couldn't help himself; he burst out in laughter. "Married?" he repeated incredulously, his voice sounding shrill even to his own ears. "What kind of rubbish are you talking, John Lennon? Are you trying to tell me you're gonna get _married_?"

John shook his head vigorously then. "No! Fuck, Paulie, no!" He exhaled again. He felt like he was going to explode soon. "Sometimes people _have _to fucking get married!"

"Well, sure," Paul said, shrugging a bit. "Especially with the war and everything back in the day...I 'spect that's how a lot of us came to be." He smiled easily, wondering where all this talk was coming from. John hardly ever wanted to talk to him about serious things; he saved that for his best mate Stuart.

"Shit Paulie, I'm talking about _now! _What if you had to get married now?"

For the first time, Paul's smile dropped. "Erm." He shook his head, perplexed as to why John was asking him this so fervently. "Then...I suppose I'd get married, if I had to. But we both know there ain't no reason I'd ever need to get married."

This brought him up short, remembering a day a few months back with Cass. It had been beautiful all day; a cool breeze running through the windows, the sun shining bright overhead, the sky so perfectly blue...like Cassidy's eyes. His dad was away with his brother, off taking pictures and being frivolous. Cass had come over that night.

He swallowed roughly. "There'd never be a reason," he repeated quietly.

John shrugged but instead of looking nonchalant like he hoped, his motions came off jerky and suspicious. "Yeah, no, I mean...fuck. There'd never be reason. I was just asking. If there was a reason. Would you leave the band?" He waved his hands in front of him as if to clear the air. "Let's just fuckin' drop it, then."

But, thanks to that bastard, Paul couldn't drop it. He kept thinking about it, and thinking about it, and thinking about it. Finally, he set his guitar down and padded off into his room, opening the drawer of his nightstand and sifting through the various items that resided there. He located the little box that had been stored there for quite some time. It was opened.

Smiling, a sense of relief washing over him, he went back into the living room and resumed his position. He looked directly at John, as though answering a question that had never been asked.

"There'd never be a reason," he said confidently.

…

"I don't even know what to say."

"It's a fucking bomb, that's what it is, luv."

Alley looked at John, her face seemingly frozen in a surprised expression. She fleetingly thought about the old adage-'Don't twist your face that way or it'll get stuck like that forever!' In her case it just might get stuck that way forever; her shock and surprise didn't show signs of disappearing any time soon. John was right, Cass had dropped a bomb. And now that bomb was exploding everywhere. Realizing that John was waiting for her to say something, she shook herself from her thoughts.

"A bomb?" she echoed. "It wasn't a bomb. It was more like a fucking nuclear missile."

"Fuckin' right," John said with a nod. He thought for a few moments. "Just wait 'till the news hits Paulie."

"Goodbye world, hello burning ruins," Alley muttered sarcastically.

Silence fell between them then. They both leaned against the bottom of the big tree-their tree-and thought about the happenings of that day. Both of them were thinking of their respective best mates and worrying about what it would do their lives. Alley turned to John, studying his face as he looked ahead into the distance. His usual carefree nature wasn't there but a look of worry and confusion rested there instead. Alley could almost hear his thoughts.

"You're worried about the band." It was more of a statement than a question.

John's reaction said it all. Alley nodded in silence. She understood how he felt. The band meant everything to John. It was the single most thing in his life that he put all his hard work and effort into achieving. He could taste the success, he could hear the fans screaming in his head. He hadn't come this far and worked this hard to have it all come down around him before it even got off the ground. Some would say that he was acting selfish and that he didn't care about the well being of his friend. It wasn't that he didn't care; a young man with a dream like his simply couldn't be stopped.

"Is it horrible?" he asked, finally turning to glance at her. "Caring about the band?"

"It's fine," Alley said with a shrug. "It's something that means something to you. I think it'd be more weird if you didn't give a damn." Another few moments of silence passed between them. "Hey John?"

"What?"

Alley inhaled, held it for a few moments and then exhaled. "What if it was you?"

"Fuck," John said, shuddering internally at the thought. "I'd probably die, I reckon."

Alley chuckled and looked at him with eye-brows raised. "Really?"

"Probably," John smirked and playfully smacked her arm. But then his face turned serious. "No, I'd do the right thing."

Alley sighed. "I hope they both do."

"Yeah."

Silence fell over them again and they both sit there, staring ahead into the distance. Both reflected on their lives up until that point and wondered what would happen next.

…

_Holy fuck._

Those two words seemed to run through Alley's mind constantly-or at least ever since she and John talked to Cass. Well, you couldn't really say it was any old talk. It was more the kind of talk that consisted of bombs dropping and and things you didn't want to be involved in being revealed to you which, of course, caused you to be involved in it. She had just left from being with John and all they were able to speak about was the whole "Cass incident." It was one of the rare times that John was speechless; without his usual sarcasm and wit. This whole thing had stunned everyone. Alley couldn't possibly imagine how Paul would feel when he found out. She shook the thoughts away-she had to get her mind on something else.

She was walking down the street with her head down and so she didn't see anything around her. Suddenly, she ran smack into someone and went flying backwards onto the ground. Blowing her hair out of her eyes, she looked up, prepared to give the no good, walking wall a nasty remark. But when she saw the shaggy brown hair and the tall, lanky frame, she felt her words leave her.

_Shit. Fuck. Dammit. No, no, no, son of a-_

She didn't want to think about that either.

With a sigh, she grabbed the outstretched hand and allowed herself to be pulled up. She brushed the dirt off of her clothes and stood there in silence for a few seconds, trying to avoid his eyes as she planned her escape.

"Hello, there," George muttered, grinning at the ground. When he looked up and saw the expression on her face, his happiness faded slightly and he tucked his hand behind his back shyly. "It's been a while."

"Uh huh," Alley said, a bit nervously. She still looked at the ground, choosing to focus on her shoes. "Since-well, it's been a while."

George reached a hand behind his head, scratching his neck. He let his arm slap to his side awkwardly when he was finished. "You were excellent," he blurted. He pressed his lips together upon realizing what he said, widening his eyes and shaking his head vigorously. "Not that, you know, I've been comparing ya. Or thinkin' about it. But, you know. It happened, and...it happened," he concluded lamely. He flushed. "Sorry."

Alley's head snapped up at George's confession. She couldn't help but smile. "Well-" She stopped for a second, unsure of what to say. "I mean it was-good. _Really _good." She grimaced when she realized how she sounded. "Not that I've been thinking about it either. Like you said it-it just happened." She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Can't change it, right?"

"Wouldn't want to." He drew in a deep breath, laughing as it came out. "It's nice to have something on John for once, and not the other way around. He never did get over that, ya know. Me and you."

Alley laughed out loud at that. "I didn't think he ever would." Her expression turned to annoyed for a brief second. "Though really, who the fuck is he to say anything? Is he not fucking-sorry-sleeping with Cynthia? Do you see me going all jealous?" She thought a moment. "Okay, don't answer that."

"But..." he hesitated for a moment, glancing up at her from his feet. "You two were never together. Cass said that was what you wanted." He shrugged. "I would hate that, if it were me."

"No we weren't," Alley agreed with a nod. "It was different. It was like- we were together but not officially." She shrugged, knowing it didn't make much sense. "You're a one woman man then, huh Georgie?"

He considered it. "I suppose. Well, no." He grinned, sticking his hands in his pockets and swaying a bit. "But I meant I would hate that if I were you. It's a lose/lose for you, ya know?"

Alley sighed and leaned against a lamp post. "Pretty much. But you take what you can get."

"I hate to be pushy," George said slowly, quietly, "but you didn't get anything."

Alley nodded, a ghost of a smile on her face. "No I reckon I didn't." She thought about everything that happened over the past few years, a wave of fresh emotion hitting her. Closing her eyes for a moment, she did her best to push it all away. When she opened them again, she felt a bit more composed. "So-have you heard from Cecilia lately? After the big "fuck off" you gave her, that is?"

"No." He didn't elaborate.

"No?" Alley echoed. She made a little clicking noise with her tongue. "Is that all you're gonna tell me, then?"

George closed his eyes, then reopened them slowly. "Do you have any idea how much time I wasted on her?" His voice was strained, hurt. It was a voice he recognized these days. More talking meant more people, and people were always a thing for him to avoid. People could hurt you so easily, and not think anything of it. "Do you realize how long it took for me to realize what a...bitch she is?"

"Yeah," Alley said slowly. She took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds and then let it out in a rush. "You spent as much time on her as I did pretending something could happen between me and John. Something real." With a scoff she said, "Fuckin' waste of time, yeah?"

"Fuckin'. Waste. Of time." He repeated slowly, kicking his leg forward and making contact with a pebble. "But, hey. We're gonna hit it big. John promised, and John always keeps his promises. This whole band thing...yeah, this won't be a waste of time for me." He aimed a kick at another pebble, mumbling under his breath so she couldn't hear him, "It's all I got."

"And you will be great," Alley said, punching him in the shoulder playfully. She grinned. "One day soon, millions of girls will be screaming all of your names! The name "The Beatles" will be known everywhere." Her grin turned mischievous then. "I reckon lots of girls will be throwing themselves at you. You think you can handle that, Georgie?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Nah, they'll probably love the others. Pete's got all the ladies; John is...well, John is John; Paul is every parent's dream, and ever girl's dream, too; and Stu's got that whole mysterious thing about him." He straighted his leather jacket, brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes. "I hardly talk."

"So what?" Alley said with a shrug of her shoulders. She was undeterred. "You will be the quiet one. And being quiet leads away to mystery. They'll be tripping over each other to get to you."

"You flatter me," he said. Glancing down quickly at his watch, he realized they had been talking for longer than he thought. "Sorry, Al, but I was on my way somewhere. It was nice to catch up."

Alley smiled at him. "Yeah it really was. Don't be a stranger, eh, Harrison?" She turned and began to walk in the direction she had been going when she bumped into George.

"Alley!" He called, and he waited for her to turn around before he smiled. Genuinely, genuinely smiled. "Thank you."

Alley returned the smile and before turning and walking away she said, "Always."

…

"So what's up?"

Cassidy stared across the room at her boyfriend, her hands clasped tightly in her lap and her top teeth chomped down firmly on her bottom lip. He stood in the door way, pulling his leather jacket off carelessly. His mind wasn't littered with the heavy thoughts that filled Cass's, but it was about to be. She would never forgive herself for this.

Paul turned around to face her, an amused look adorning his boyish features. "Cass?"

She moved over on the sofa, making room for him. She was careful not to touch him. "I have to tell you something," she told him, her voice almost too soft to be audible.

He didn't expect a thing, it was apparent from his face. He was too innocent, too naïve. "Well, go on then."

She hesitated, revolving her eyes to stare down at her pale fingers. Even if she wanted to say something, she probably could not. Her throat felt dry, her eyes heavy from tears that she had cried early in the day. Every cell in her body urged her legs to move, to get out of this room and not have to speak the words that needed to be said. The ticking hands of the clock that hung on the wall echoed in her ears, until that alone was the only sound she could hear besides the rapid, heavy beats of her own heart. Her palms began to prick with sweat, her breaths came out a little faster, a little sharper.

"Cassidy?"

The concern of his tone washed over her like a wave of cool water, breaking her from her trance. She glanced up quickly.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly, her voice thin and brittle sounding. "I was just…" She let her voice trail off. He knew her better than to believe any excuse she spouted out to him.

"You're scaring me," Paul told her bluntly, moving closer to her. She immediately shifted away, as though they were two magnets of like charges, repelling each other. In reality, she was afraid of what she might say, what she might do, if she let him in again.

Cassidy swallowed roughly. "Listen to me," she began, licking her lips and focusing down on her hands still. "Please."

There was a long stretch of silence in which Paul wondered whether her words were rhetorical and Cassidy wondered whether she would ever be able to get it out. But, if she could tell John and Alley earlier, than she sure as hell could tell the one person with whom she was closest to in the entire world.

"I'm listening," Paul said softly.

She chanced a quick peek at him, taking in the anxious slant of his eyes and his achingly familiar features. Carefully, she reached over, picked up his hand, and ran her fingers over the top of it. Tracing the familiar curves and slopes, she felt a sense of confidence rush over her. If she could say this in front of John Lennon, Supreme Douchebag of the World, then she could admit this to Paul.

"If I didn't think that you would want me to tell you this, I wouldn't. I would just let you get big and famous and I would stay in this town. Because honestly, you're worth so much more than this. One day the entire world will realize how special you are. And after that, you'll never look back. I want that for you, I want everything for you, because you deserve it." She gripped his hand for a second, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm so afraid that what I'm about to say will change things."

He stared at her, quite alarmed by that point. He moved closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and squeezing her to him. "Nothing you say could ever change how I feel about you."

Cass sighed, shaking her head vehemently. "You don't understand. I'm not talking about the right now; I'm talking about the big picture."

"I don't get it," he said slowly.

"I love you, Paul. I love you so, so much." She opened her mouth to continue, but he cut her off.

"And I love you!" He raised his index finger, anchoring it under her chin and gently rotating her head to face his. "Cassidy, I have loved you from the moment I set eyes on you when we were fifteen years old. You're everything to me, don't you see that? I don't know what you're going to say, that is true, but I know without a doubt that it will not sway me – not even for a second – in anything. Alright? I – "

"I'm pregnant."

Paul stopped dead, midsentence. His mouth opened and closed for a moment, like a fish gulping for water on dry land. His grip on her hand slackened, his eyes went distant. Cassidy stood up from the couch, her wobbly knees almost buckling. She looked down at her boyfriend, who seemed to have frozen.

"Say something," she commanded, her voice strained and sharp. Her worst fears were being confirmed, it seemed.

He did not obey her. He didn't even look at her. Slowly, his body tightened up and he drew into himself, putting his hands over his face and resting his elbows on his knees. Finally, after what seemed to be hours, he spoke. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"It takes two," Cass said lightly, wanting nothing more than for him to look up.

For a second, his breathing stopped altogether. He just sat there, crumpled, and Cassidy forced herself to stand there and wait for him. Because her Paul didn't run away from things, and he didn't not hide from them, either.

"Tell me John put you up to this," he groaned after a long pause, picking his up a fraction and scowling into his palms. "I'm gonna kill that fucking – "

"Are you seriously asking me that right now?" She looked down at him in disgust, not believing what she was hearing. "Do you truly think that I would do anything this serious for that no good bastard?"

Resolved, Paul let his head fall into his hands again. They stayed there for a long time, just like that. Cassidy standing over him, waiting for him to be a man. Paul sitting there, also waiting for himself to be a man. Cass glanced up at the clock on wall, noting the time. Her mother would be home in not even an hour. That would be another battle in itself.

When Paul finally looked up at her, he was a different person. No longer did he have that mischievous, carefree gleam in his hazel eyes. But rather, a flat determination now resided there now. He plants his feet farther apart, set his knees at ninety degree angles, and straightened his back. He had the disposition of a man who had made up his mind after a great deal of thinking and fretting and wallowing and thinking some more. He set his jaw, locking his eyes with the crisp blue ones of his girlfriend.

There was a collective intake of breath between the both of them. Cassidy was ready to tell him to fuck off, and Paul just the opposite. The single second that passed between the breath and the final utterance of words seemed to stretch into several eternities. They both saw images of what could be in their heads: a big white house with a picket fence, the Beatles playing a sold-out show in America, a dog and a yard, endless riches, John being named godfather, an island named after a stunning model with unblemished skin and a talent for bedroom activities.

And in that eternal moment, an epiphany was had and a mind was changed. Suddenly, Paul melted. His hard composure slipped, his heart skipped a beat, and the weight of the world seemed to crash down onto his shoulders. For the first time in ages, he felt exactly like what he was; a seventeen year old boy. He was scared, he didn't know what to do, and he only knew one thing for certain: he had to make a choice. And it was now or never.

So, without a second more to waste, he opened his mouth. Out slipped two words that took Cassidy so aback that she bit her tongue and held back the words she had been about to spit. Two words so simple and yet so heavy with implications Paul hardly to rethink them.

"Marry me."

…

**Addie AN: Well damn. That was some heavy, intense shit right there. Worth waiting for? I hope so.**

**Catie AN: Guys, I know this is a lot of shit to throw at you right now, but...we're ending In Spite. Please thank all the comments in the reviews telling us to delete it. :(**

**LOL JK! On one hand, fuck them. On the other hand, we have been drawing this out for quite some time. It's gotten to the point where I hardly even remember what happened in the third chapter (because honestly...what happened?). And so, we'll be ending In Spite in two chapters time.**

**Addie AN: Yeah, it's true! And as sad as it is, because believe me it's sad for us, it has to end. It's the right time. And I honestly can't remember what happened at the beginning either! Tis just time.**

**Oh and yeah-those kind, wonderful reviewers who told us to delete this story- Hahaha. I'm just gonna put a closed mouth smiley face, like this, :) because if I open my mouth, I might call you stupid twats who are jealous of our success and fan base. Oops.**

**Catie AN: Haha...ha...aha. Okay. I guess we should probably put this up now. We've kept you in suspense long enough, I suppose. Thanks for reading and thanks for all the support, guys. It means a lot and shit like that. :^)**

**Addie AN: Yes yes it does. Now, there's one more thing before we go. Catie, do you want to ask what?**

**Catie AN: Fine. What?**

**Addie AN: How kind, thank you. Right. Anyway. People. IT'S FUCKING CHRISTMAS SOON! **

**YAY!**

**Right, anyway. Seriously, a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all of you wonderful readers! 8^D**

**Catie AN: Or Hanukkah. Or Kwanza. Or...uh. Whatever you melon fuckers celebrate. Happy holidays. :^) We'll HOPEFULLY talk to you soon!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Catie AN: Well, hey guys. That wasn't too big of a wait, was it? I told you that I wasn't going to let mean OLD Addie let that happen again. **

**Addie AN: Uh huh, sure, blame the smarter, older, wiser, cooler, more awesome of the authors. God, us cool people always get such a bad rap.**

**Catie AN: :^l George. Is. Not. Amused. But anyways, this was a really emotional chapter for us to write. We were kind of summing up all the little stories that went on during In Spite - save for a few, because let's face it...a LOT went on in this story. This is the second to last chapter. It's weird to say that but...it's true. :(**

**Addie AN: Yeah, in all seriousness, I know what you mean. This story has gone on for a year and a half. And it's crazy to finally let it go. So guys, read this chapter and enjoy it because this is the last In Spite chapter that takes place in the past. So really, it's a goodbye before the epilogue. Read, enjoy, review and cry!**

**Catie AN: Don't cry, we don't mean to depress you. That's just like Addie to say. Fuck, she's SO insensitive! Haa, I kid. We have fun here. ALSO! Just so you know, this chapter starts with the second half of the scene the last one ends with. So, if you want your memory to be refreshed, go back and read that! HAPPY READING! :^) (George is amused again.)**

...

She shouldn't have had to think about the answer.

Cassidy knew that. He was the love of her life; sweet, a carefree disposition, cute, talented. And he was doing the honorable thing. Yet, there was some small fragment of doubt in the back of Cass's mind, some echoing reminder of events that she just wanted to shut out for good. Something told her that it was _she_ who was not doing the honorable thing.

How could she live with herself?

Finally, Paul stood up. He clasped his hands around hers tightly, bending his knees to look into her eyes better. "Cass, marry me." His voice was sincere, so genuine that it almost moved Cassidy to fresh tears.

She opened her mouth, wanting nothing more than to close it and not have to say anything at all. Not ever again. Maybe then she could come to terms with what she was doing; sustained in silence for the rest of her life, she could accept the hollow guilt that came along with ruining a person's life.

But before she could even utter a syllable, Paul's lips were on hers and all serious thoughts were pushed away for one brief, clarifying moment. And then he pulled away, and the world came crashing back again.

"I know you think that I'm just saying it," Paul continued as if there were never a pause. As if she had already agreed. "Just saying it because it's what a man should do. But I'm not. I had every intention of marrying you in a few years, so what's the difference? We're just…speeding up the process."

"Paul," Cassidy said finally, her voice cracking. "I'm seventeen!"

"And so am I," he said nonchalantly, shrugging. "So are plenty of people."

She chomped down hard on her bottom lip, unable to raise her eyes to meet his searching gaze. Surely, if she did, he would see right through her. "But what about the Beatles? What about…making it big? You can't be tied down with a wife and kid. I know you, Paul, you just don't work that way."

She felt his resolve waver, but only for a moment. And that moment was all she needed to know that he would regret whatever decision he made forever. Stay, and give everything up. Leave, and give her up. Somehow, it would be one or the other, no matter how hard they tried to make it work. Somehow, everything was just fucked.

In response to her words, Paul carefully lowered his head, nestling his chin her auburn locks. He closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around her, and just stood there for a moment.

"Somehow," he whispered, "we'll be okay. I promise ya."

Cassidy stood in his embrace, impossibly lost and searching her mind for something to say. But, she was interrupted once more by a flash of headlights in the front window and the knowledge that her mother would soon be in the door. As though thinking as one, the pair took a step away from each other.

Paul gave his girlfriend his most charming, reassuring smile, then grabbed his leather jacket and headed for the door.

"Paul – wait," Cass called after him, surprising herself.

He turned, glanced out the window, and then looked at her expectantly. Outside, the car door slammed shut. "Yes?"

"Yes."

A flash of confusion clouded his eyes, and before he could ask any questions, Cassidy clarified. "Yes, I'll marry you."

She wasn't really even sure why she said it. It was the wrong thing to do on her part, and it wasn't as though she meant it. Yes, she wanted to marry him. Someday, off in her fantasies. But that wasn't how it worked in real life, and these were not the ideal circumstances.

Besides, that small voice in her head – she would have to give it a name if it continued to make such frequent appearances – whispered the small truths that she had left out from her stories to both Paul and Alley. Those truths would always be there, she knew, and there was never going to be any escaping them. Marrying Paul, she assumed, would only make it worse.

But then – oh, it was all worth it. All the worrying, anxiety, nerves. All the questioning and secrets. She would take all of that in exchange for the smile Paul gave her then, when it mattered most. It reassured her, warmed her. Made her fall in love with him all over again.

In the next second, he had vanished out the front door, and it hadn't close for five seconds before it was pushed open again by a face with a bright, chipper smile and cold blue eyes.

…

Paul tumbled happily around the side of Cass's house, narrowly avoiding her mother. Once in the safety of the yard behind her house, he breathed out in a deep sigh of relief. The morning sun baked down onto his face and smiled with pure happiness. Cassidy was going to marry him. He was going to play music every day and come home to his own kid every night - and if there was any one thing he wanted included in his future, it was a child. Perhaps this was a blessing disguise.

But right now, John had called a band meeting, and he was already about five minutes late. He raced through the alley, disheartened (but only slightly) by the fact that he had to go halfway across town.

By the time he reached John's house, George was already seated there, looking uncomfortable under the mounting pressure of John's wrath. John, Prince of Punctuality, hated Paul's untimeliness, and George already had to listen to him rant on and on about it for the better part of half an hour.

John was sitting in his usual chair when Paul ran into the house, half out of breath. He tapped his foot impatiently on the ground and drummed his fingers on the guitar lying across his lap. Instead of talking, he raised his eye-brows at Paul. He was mad that Paul was late and he knew that Paul knew it.

Paul stood there, grinning wildly, and through his arms out to the side. "I'm getting married!" he cried, his voice echoing throughout Mimi's empty house. It was met with a blanket silence.

George - who was never clued in on anything at all - widened his eyes and looked at his best friend in alarm. "What the fuck? Wait, wait, wait." He held his hand up in front of him, trying to process the situation. "Just...what the fuck?"

"Married?" John asked, looking confused as if he didn't know the meaning of the word. Then the realization hit him. "Married? You're gonna fucking marry her? What about the band?" He grabbed his guitar by the neck and stood up quickly. He was staring right into Paul's eyes. "Are you fucking crazy?"

Paul looked severely alarmed. "Wait - what? What's wrong?" He shrugged, smiling and ducking his head. Even John couldn't kill his exuberance. "I mean, I get it. We're seventeen. But it's the right thing to do and I love her! And anyways, it's not like I was doing anything else major right now."

George just stared, wide-eyed. "Guys, seriously. This is not funny." He looked at John, his black brows pulled together tightly. "Are you guys taking the piss?"

John waved him off with his hand. He was too busy keeping himself from hitting Paul to answer his questions. "Not doing anything major?" His eyes almost bugged out of his head when he said it. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He couldn't help it, he smacked Paul upside the head. "Are you fucking stupid, Paulie? What do you think our band is? Less than major?"

"No, no, it's SO important! But it's not like anything is going on right now." He shrugged happily. "The band is number one - eh, two - but if we're kind of just...like, in neutral right now, what's the difference? Nothing's gonna change."

"Well you're wrong about that one, Paulie," John said. He walked over to the table and picked up a letter he received in the post that morning. He threw it at Paul. "Read it, Paulie."

George watched nervously - still not fully understanding what the situation was - as Paul cast them both suspicious glances and then read on.

Paul was silence for a few minutes after reading the letter. He took a deep breath, his intent being to breath it out and be a little calmer. But that just didn't happen. Instead he held his breath as he thought about what to do, what to say, and - most importantly - the choice he was going to have to make.

Finally, he let the breath go. "Oh, shit," he breathed, shaking his head and looking up at John. "I didn't realize...you know I didn't..." He gestured to the letter, laughing in spite of himself. "This is amazing!"

"Yeah, it's amazing," John said without much emotion. He grabbed the letter from Paul's hands and held it up. "Did you see what it says? They want us back in Hamburg. Soon. Is that fucking major enough for you?"

"No, yeah, I saw." Paul stared at the ground hardly, unsure of what to say. "It's just that...I wish you could have told me this earlier today. Or something."

"Can anyone fill me on this? Or is it a secret? Because I am part of the band and I would really like to know what's going on." George looked from Paul to John, who stared at the floor and Paul respectively with equal intensity. "No? Okay, awesome."

"I'll tell you what's going on, George," John said, finally paying attention to their other band member. "We're going back to Hamburg." Then he turned to Paul and once again stared right into his eyes. "What are _you _gonna do about it?"

"I'm going to..." He sighed, running a hand over his face. "I guess I'm going to make this work somehow. I don't know how, but it's going to work out." He looked up, into John's hard, calculating eyes. "I'm going. And I'm marrying Cassidy. Trust me, everything will be okay." He bravely tried to conjure up a smile, but sort of failed; it just didn't reach his eyes.

George knew about Hamburg - he had seen the letter before John could stop him. What he didn't know was what was going on here. "Okay, honestly Paul. Why are you marrying Cassidy?"

"Oh, why do you think?" he snapped, throwing himself down on the couch and pressing his hand over his face.

"It doesn't fucking matter now," John said, following suit and sitting back down in his chair. He laid his guitar across his lap again. "We came here to play so let's fucking play!"

Paul immediately strummed down on his guitar, and instant relief flooded through his body. Music was his only escape in this moment. He knew that what he said was a lie - he couldn't go to Hamburg with a wife and a baby at home. He couldn't and he wouldn't. But then again...he could not leave the band just as they were starting on their journey to fame.

There was a choice he was going to have to make, sooner or later. But for now, he was going to lie and keep a straight face.

George watched his friends silently play their music; Paul playing his guitar and John writing some song. He wished he could be as connected musically as they were. But then again, there were a lot of negatives that came along with that; near constant arguments, silents chats, the exclusion of the rest of the band. And now...Paul was marrying Cass. And she was pregnant from the sound of it. And he was going to try and go to Hamburg. He watched his friend's revered features, and caught a sprinkling of worry there. It was instantly washed away by a forced smile, a carefree laugh, and a glance at John.

"How's Cyn?" he asked.

John shrugged as he wrote down another line that popped into his head. "She's fine," he said, never looking up from the paper. "Like always."

"And Alley?" he asked, almost absentmindedly.

George looked up at John, curious. It was one thing for Paul to be leaving his darling girl-next-door Cassidy, and it was quite another for John to be leaving the fucked up relationship he had with Alley.

John didn't answer for a while. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how he felt about leaving Alley. Part of him wished he didn't have to. The other part, the ambitious musician, wanted to get the fuck out of Liverpool and fast. But Alley was...she was just that. She was Alley. Like it or not, she meant a lot to him. He was meeting her later that day, after Cassidy's graduation. He didn't know yet how he was going to handle it. He realized George was staring at him, waiting for him to answer. In true John Lennon style, he smirked to hide his real feelings and shrugged.

"She's fine," John said. "Gonna be seeing her later today."

Looking at him then, George had one thought in his mind: Asshole. He didn't really think John was that; in fact, he thought he could be down right sweet when he wanted to be. But the way he hid his feelings and emotions made him angry. He held his tongue, however, just plucking at his guitar.

"I haven't talked to her in a while," Paul continued on, still in his own world and not really realizing what he was saying. Just purely making conversation. "But she was great. I really consider her one of my good friends."

"Yeah, me too," John mumbled. He had gone back to writing down lyrics. He wanted the conversation to switch fast before something would come tumbling out of him that he would regret. "So, we're going to Hamburg boys. We're gonna be fucking famous."

Paul looked up, grinning. He was not done with the previous subject yet. "George was pretty good friends with Alley, too, weren't ya my boy." He tossed his pencil, which hit George's thick head of hair with a soft thud.

George turned bright red and immediately averted his eyes from either of the boys. His voice rose nervously. "Ha...Hamburg! Yeah! We're gonna be famous!" He chuckled down at the floor, silently cursing James Paul McCartney and the wrath he was about to face from John.

John normally would go on one of his famous rampages but instead he only shrugged and picked up his guitar from where he had leaned it against the wall. "Let's just play, boys. One more time for fucking Liverpool!"

"For Liverpool," George repeated, happy that John just went along with his subject change.

"For Liverpool!" said Paul.

...

"Was that Paul?" Cassidy's mother asked, glancing over her shoulder. There was no hiding her contempt for the boy in her tone; it slid out in icy currents, tiding heavily at his name. She fixed her mouth in a tight smile, as though she were pleased that her daughter had landed such a boy. As though she even knew the half of it.

Cass swallowed roughly, choosing not to answer a question that may or may not have been rhetorical. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, took in a deep breath, and gathered all the courage that she had surmounted in her seventeen years.

"Mam," she finally breathed, "I have to tell you something."

That seemed to be the line of the week. If you were the morbid type – like Cassidy liked to pretend she wasn't – it was pretty interesting to see different people's reactions. Alley, of course, was immediately suspicious. John had rolled his eyes, as though Cass were just too over dramatic for him. Paul hadn't reacted at all; whether he thought she couldn't possible have big news for him, or he was just too laid back to get that worked up, she wasn't sure.

Mam, however, was a different story. She stared hardly at Cassidy, a grocery bag hooked on her arm and her purse slung over the other shoulder. She didn't move, didn't speak.

Obviously, Cassidy didn't tell her things. Ever. Almost every time they spoke resulted in an argument, so it was just generally avoided to keep the entire population of the house happy.

The silence was eerie. It was clear that Cass had been crying earlier, as her face was streaked with mascara tears and her eyes were slightly bloodshot. She sniffed, breaking the suffocating quiet, and her mother snapped to attention.

"Can't it wait til after dinner?" she inquired, pushing past her daughter quickly and heading into the kitchen.

Cassidy followed her, sitting down at the dining room table and looking through the archway where her mother stood on her tiptoes, putting food into the cabinets.

"It really can't," she said, her voice feeble and low.

She could sense how alarmed her mother was. It was apparent in her face, which she immediately hid from Cass. Instead of answering, she hauled a pot up from a low cabinet and filled it with water. Then, she moved it to the stove. Finally, she turned around, as though she forgot Cass was there; as though she hoped she wouldn't be.

She sighed heavily as she lighted the burner. "Can't you see I'm busy? Honestly, Cassidy –"

"Mam!" Her voice was sharp, shrill. It rang throughout the high ceilings and probably carried to Cecilia upstairs. She held her breath, willing herself to hold back the stream of words and tears and thoughts that were threatening to break through. For she had her mother's attention now, and the floor was hers.

Mam stood in front of her, hands on her miniature waist, staring at her with a face that could only be described as fearful.

Cassidy swallowed thickly, then motioned to the seat opposite her at the table. Hesitantly, her mother followed direction, her eyes on her daughter the entire time.

"You're scaring me, Cassidy," she admitted once she was seated. "Just say it, whatever the hell it is. I have things to do."

What Cass wanted to do more than ever was get up and walk away. Both for her mother's obviously disinterested attitude, and for the fear of reaction at her announcement. It was pathetic that it was so much easier to tell her friends and her baby daddy then it was to tell her own mother. Weren't the two of them supposed to be the best of friends? Wasn't she supposed to be able to tell her anything?

A heavy weight settled in her stomach when she realized that she could have easily said this to her father – her father! That was borderline ridiculous.

"I made a mistake," she said, as though this were a good starting point. It truly wasn't, because she hadn't made a mistake. This was not her fault.

Cassidy's mom cleared her throat, folding her hands in front of her on the table daintily. "Well, just get on with it then. Do I owe anybody any money?"

She winced at her mother's cold disregard. Staring into the eyes that mimicked hers so exactly, she tried to see beyond the layer of protection that she always kept up. Surely, her father –a good man, with a big heart and actual feelings – wouldn't have married this woman if she were always like this. Would he? No, there had to be something more.

But Cassidy just could not see it.

"No, nothing like that." She took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "Paul and I are going to get married." Maybe if she said that, her mom would put two and two together.

But, no.

Mam gave her the most disgusted look, shaking her head and turning away. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. You're seventeen! I don't understand how that would be a mistake, though. Are you saying you made a mistake in saying yes to that…that…oversized child? Because then, I could see—"

"Stop it, Mam." She breathed out, closing her eyes. "That's actually the good news."

That silence from earlier had returned with a vengeance. It was so thick it was almost tangible, and as it began to get drawn out for longer and longer, Cassidy felt the tears returning to her eyes. She refused to let them fall, however. She would not do that in front of her mother.

Finally, she gathered the courage to open her eyes and look at her mother. What she saw broke her heart.

Mam's deep blue eyes shone turquoise, and her full lips were pressed together tightly. For the first time in so long, Cass really looked at her mother. The pale skin was looser than she remembered, and as her face puckered with the strain of emotion, a few permanent lines indented further. She reached a shaking hand forward, placing it on top of Cass's. "Oh, Cassidy," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I didn't want this for you."

Cass started at her mother from across the table. She seemed to be stuck in some sort of limbo of grief; her hand hovered in midair, halfway between the table and her mouth, and her eyebrows pulled together in some sort of twisted sympathetic look.

It was fucking weird.

"Of course you didn't," Cass said slowly. "Because what mother wants their daughter to become a teenage mother?"

Mam didn't say anything for a long while, her thin lips beginning to shake and her hand finally closing the gap and covering her weakness daintily. In that moment, she looked so fragile. So meek. Cassidy couldn't believe she had ever said some of the things she had to her. Because looking at her now, she saw her for everything that she tried to hide from everybody, at all times; she was just broken.

"A mother," she finally answered after a deep breath, "who went through the same things. A mother who was seeking some sort of…" She hesitated, her eyes squeezing shut tightly with tears. They seeped down her face in deep black tracks, smudging her cover-up. "Some sort of twisted revenge."

Cass sat in stunned silence. A few things were mystifying her.

One, that her mother hadn't completely went off the deep end at her little announcement.

Two, that she actually gave her mother that little announcement.

Three, that she knew Cecilia was listening from the stairwell, but she just didn't care (even if she would probably tell everyone at school what was going down with her and Paul and the baby).

And four, that her mother had just told her that the reason she had been so cruel to her for most of her life was because she was seeking revenge. Literally…what the fuck?

"Mam," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She didn't think she could possibly raise it any higher. "What are you talking about?"

Her mother pressed her lips together firmly, clasped her hands in front of her on the tabletop, and lowered her eyes to her conjoined fingers. "I was a teenage mother, too."

Cass blinked.

And then she blinked again.

"I had you when I was sixteen years old," her mother whispered, as though it were the greatest shame of her life. "My entire family wouldn't speak to me, they were so embarrassed. Your father was the only one there for me."

Cassidy was barely listening, though. She just kept returning to the fact that her mother was in almost the exact situation she was in at that very moment. Her mother, HER MOTHER. Her perfect, prudish, self-centered mother could relate to her in every way. She could scream with the horror of it.

Mam reached out for her daughter's hand, hesitated, then brought it back to her other palm reluctantly. "I've always blamed you. And I'm so, so sorry for that."

Still, Cass said nothing. She was a smart girl, wasn't she? How did she never notice that her mother was a little bit younger than all the other ones? Or her father, for that matter? Was she too enraptured in the now seemingly minute factions of her life that she couldn't do some simple math? How could she have gone so long without realizing this?

Mam must have mistook her silence for the usual hatred, for the tears started to come a little quicker and her words seemed to lose all of their careful, measured quality and being to pour out of her mouth. "Cassidy, baby, I know how that seems. I never intended, really, for me to lose touch with you so much that you would go out and do something so outlandish. I shouldn't have been punishing you for something that was my own fault, and I know that now. I've known that for some time now. It's just that any time I've ever tried to – to be better…it just seemed like you despised me so much and I – "

It took Cassidy a moment for her to realize what was happening; her mother was apologizing to her. She was apologizing to her not only for being a bad mother all those years, but for her getting pregnant. As though…as though she wanted that. As though everything that happened with Paul was just another way to seek revenge upon her.

"Mam. Stop it," she snapped, glaring at her. Her gaze immediately softened at the startled look on her mother's face. She looked so insecure, so different than she always did that Cass simply could not yell at her. "It's not like this was…it was such a mistake. I can't even explain to you how much of a mistake this was."

Her mother just looked at her, shaking slightly. "Well, of course, but – "

"No, you don't get it," Cassidy breathed, shaking her head. She could feel the words coming up, the ones she had never been able to spill to Alley and Paul. Words that haunted her, words that she hid from. Words that resonated in her brain all day, every day, so that she could never escape from them.

"I was raped," she said, her voice so low it was barely audible. And once they were out, she felt a sickening jolt in her stomach, because saying them out loud was so much worse than thinking them; somehow, it made everything more real.

She heard her mother's intake of breath, her heavy sob, her finger nails clacking against the table with her shaking hand. "Oh, Cassidy."

Cassidy shook her head, wanting her to stop. Needing her to be quiet for just a moment, so she could speak her mind. "I was spending the night at Alley's, and he grabbed me and took me to his room. And…and…" Her breathing was quicker now, there was a sharp pain behind her eyes. "He…I tried to stop him, but – " She folded into herself, her arms crossing and her head landing on top of them. Tears leaked from her eyes, but she made no sound.

And then, she felt a hand on her arm, and warmth spread from that spot to every other inch of her body. It was the warmth only a mother's touch could bring. "Shh, sweetie. You don't have to say it; I understand."

Cassidy lifted her head, well aware of the scene she was making but truly not giving a shit. "And I couldn't tell Alley, be-because she thinks…" She shook her head, not caring to finish that thought. Alley was naive in the most terrible ways. Ways that she was not. "And now Paul is going to m-marry me, because it's the h-honorable th-th-thing to do!"

There was a blanket silence over the two of them then, as Cassidy's mother held her hands and they stared into each other's identical eyes. "It's not his," she whispered thickly.

Mam nodded. "I know, baby. But there's nothing we can do."

Sure, there were things they could do. But any option besides telling Paul was immoral. She could get an abortion, but God knows she couldn't go through with that. She could just let Paul marry her and never tell him, but that would kill her every day. So, in a way, Mam was right; there was nothing to do. The truth was going to come out sooner or later, and she might as well get it over with.

Cassidy sat there for a while, across from her mother. Mam just folded her hands neatly in front of her again, and fixed her eyes on them. She was the picture of concern, ill-ease, and motherly love. And despite the fact that Cass did appreciate it and was happy they had finally connected, it was a bit too much for her at the moment, and she felt a little bit sick to her stomach.

Or maybe that was the baby.

A chill ran through her at that thought, and she stood up immediately. She knew what she had to do. It was what she had always intended to do. She just couldn't ruin Paul's life, no matter how much better it would make hers.

Mam did not look up, her eyes still on her folded hands.

"I'm going to get cleaned up. I kinda have to go graduate soon." Cassidy said, her voice heavy but clear. It was strange to hear herself say that so casually, whereas earlier in her life she had considered what was happening that day a monumental moment. In comparison with the rest of what was going on currently, however, it paled. She just didn't care any more.

Her mother nodded slowly, as though asleep. She did not avert her eyes.

Cassidy turned around, intent on heading up the stairs and escaping this situation. But something held her back. "Mam?" she said, turning around.

Mam inclined her head to show that she was listening.

"Thank you. For…" She searched for the right words. "For being there."

She smiled distantly, but made no other sound or gesture to show that she had heard. Her eyes were still fixedly staring at her hands, and she seemed to be in some sort of trance.

"I haven't told anybody else about Garrett. I don't think I could, actually, so please don't…share it. Not with Cecilia, not with anyone."

When her mother made no movement whatsoever, she turned around and headed up the stairs. She was pleased to see that Cecilia had vacated what she knew to be her favorite listening spot, so she might not have heard that last part. The part about the rape. Closing her eyes, Cassidy entered her room and flopped down onto bed, remembering a time when Paul had stormed in the room and danced with her, totally out of the blue. She smiled at the memory, trying not to think about the fact that after today, she might never dance with him again.

…

The doorbell to the Farrell's house had not rung in a long time. That was why when it finally did - more than a year later - Cecilia was the first one to answer it, hoping against hope that whoever was on the other side was was looking for her. Looking for her for a specific reason, actually.

Cecilia rushed past her mother, who sat staring at the wall blankly, her hands folded on the table neatly. She did not say a thing.

She yanked the door open, slightly breathless, and smiled at what she saw. "I know what you're going to say..." She released a gust of air from her lungs. "And I forgive you."

George Harrison - who was not so little anymore, having sprouted several inches and put on a few pounds - stood in front of her, his thick brow furrowed and his thin lips pressed together tightly. "Funny," he said, tucking his hands behind his back. "I don't remember apologizing for anything."

Cecilia's grin faded, and she stood frozen on the spot. Was it possible that George really didn't care for her anymore?

"Is Cassidy in?"

She hesitated in the doorway, glancing behind herself for a moment. Slowly, she stepped outside and shut the door behind her. "You can't see her right now," she announced, folding her arms over her chest. She had heard the entire blowout earlier. Honestly, it didn't surprise her that much.

"Why not?" George demanded, matching her tone.

"She's a mess right now. Because of...you know." She gave him a meaningful look.

He looked back at her blankly. "Cecilia, you know I have no idea what you're going on about." He shook his head wearily. "I don't have much time before we leave, and I want to say goodbye to Cass. So...could you please?" He indicated at the door, his patience waring.

Cecilia wrinkled her nose, leaning back against the heavy wood door. "Wait...I'm confused. Where are you guys going? And why are you leaving without Paul?"

"Leaving without Paul?" George's features clouded over with sudden anxiety. What did Cecilia know? What was wrong with Cassidy? Why would Paul ever leave the band? "I think I'm missing something here..."

Cecilia sighed, shaking her head. "I don't know if I should be the one to tell you this, but..." She knew she should just keep her mouth shut, but of course, she couldn't. And didn't. "Paul and Cassidy are getting married. Cass is pregnant."

George froze, a cold feeling washing over him. His back felt rigid, his mind in a whir. He could picture Cass's young face in his mind, her freckled nose and big blue eyes. And Paul's childish sense of humor and carefree lifestyle. They couldn't be parents - they couldn't get married! What were they thinking? Was George the only sensible person in the world?

"I don't believe you," he muttered, his voice almost inaudible.

Cecilia shrugged. "It's true."

George stood there, unsure of what to do. One thing was for sure: he knew the information he had just received was private, and for a good reason. "We were supposed to go to Hamburg."

"So then go," Cecilia answered promptly. "Cassidy is gonna be here when you get back; she'll probably be here for the rest of her life. It's not a big deal."

George couldn't believe what he was hearing. He shook his head in disgust, turning to head off the front stoop. "I can't even believe we're the same age." Not a big deal, his ass.

He continued down the Farrell's front walk, shaking his head and muttering to himself. He had to talk to Paul before it was too late, before he made the hugest mistake of his life.

Cecilia stood in place, watching George go. As she did, she thought of all the time it was SHE who walked away, and George that was left watching, waiting. Had he felt like this? Rejected, stupid. Shunned for being himself? She took a deep breath, feelings she had never before experienced filling her along with the air.

"George!" she called, waiting for him to turn around. He did so, right in the middle of the street. "I'm sorry!"

For a moment, it looked as though he were going to turn back around and not say anything at all. And then, finally, he lifted a hand in acknowledgment. Before she could blink, he was on his way again.

Cecilia smiled to herself; that was all she really needed.

…

Cassidy sat on the stage, part of the top ten percent of her graduating class, waiting for the ceremony to be over. The level of her caring about the past two hours were about equal to the amount she cared for John Lennon.

"Marilyn Bent," the man who was calling names said. Cass supposed that she knew that particular teacher, but she couldn't quite place him. He was probably one that she just called "Hey" or "Mr" instead of a name.

As Marilyn strode up the stage, graduating two years behind the rest of her classmates, no one cheered. Either her family wasn't there, or they really didn't give two shits. Which was surprising, especially since the girl had finally managed to accomplish a feat that seemed impossible for her. She swung her hips, pushed her chest out, hiked up her robe to show off her legs. But still, her face wore the empty and dejected look of someone who knew exactly how suck-ass the situation was.

Sighing, Cassidy put her hands together. Once, twice. It was a sarcastic clap, alone among an echoing silence, but it was something. Marilyn didn't even turn around to look at her.

The rest of the names passed slowly, dragging on and on, until finally the top ten were announced. Cass stood up, walked lazily to the podium, and accepted her diploma. As she did, she looked up at the teacher and a flicker of recognition ignited in her brain. Mr. Whatshisname! He glowered with her with the most contempt she had ever witnessed. Like he wished nothing more than to impale her with the microphone stand.

She laughed in his face, accepted the roll of paper in her hands, and stepped off the stage to return to her seat. It was then that she heard it.

"YEAH CASSIDY! WHOOOOOHOOOO! I LOVE YOU, CASSIDY!"

Turning dark red, she hastily glanced out over the crowd. She hastily made out the perpetrator. Sorry, perpetrator_s_. Alley and Paul stood in the midst of a crowd of grumpy looking adults, all of whom were craning their heads to try and see their children while simultaneously shooting looks of pure death at her friends.

"THAT'S MY BITCH!" Alley called out, pointing at Cass and jumping around excitedly. "THAT'S MY LITTLE BITCH!"

If Cass was red before, it was nothing compared to right then.

Even John was there, albeit sitting and not shoving huge cardboard posters in the air. He clapped lazily, raising his voice to call out, "Way to go, Freckles!"

A ripple of murmurs went through the crowd as Cassidy sat abashedly in her seat, her hand covering her face but a smile of pure delight gracing her red lips. It was the only time she felt proud of herself throughout the entire ceremony.

…

Paul took Cassidy into his arms, squeezing her and lifting her off the ground. "Congratulations!" he screamed into her ear, laughing and twirling her around.

Cassidy giggled, turning bright red again as he lifted her hat from her head and secured it onto his head. "You know, you could have been up there with me if you just hadn't followed your dreams."

He shook his head solemnly, the tassel swaying back and forth. "God damn me. I'm always doing shit like that."

"Shame on you, Paulie," Alley said, chuckling as she playfully slugged him in the shoulder. She hugged Cass. "So, did you hear me cheering for you there, Cassie?" A mischievous grin spread across her face.

"Um, I heard you yelling profanity at the top of your lungs in front of the parents of all my peers." She grinned, embracing her best friend tightly. "Thank you."

"That's my way!" Alley said, beeming with pride. John came up to them and slung a arm over Alley's shoulder. "John's happy for you too as you can see," she said with a chuckle.

"Yeah," John said, pointing a finger at Cass. "Guess you are smart after all, freckles!"

Cassidy smiled warmly at him, so happy that they could all be together. "Aw, John, you came! You _do_ love me, after all!" She threw her arms over her head as they headed down the street, walking towards their favorite diner. "Oh, happy day!"

Alley shook her head and chuckled as they walked down the street. This is the mental image she would take, she decided. When she was sad or lonely, she would think back to this day when they were all together and the happiness of this day would console her whenever she needed it. Like anything good, she didn't want it to end. But like anything good, it had to.

"Shit guys," Alley said as they neared the diner. "This is gonna be the last time going to this diner together. Do you know what that means?" When neither of them said anything she grinned widely and said, "PANCAKES!"

Paul gave Alley a look of mock-shock as he pulled the door open and held it there for Alley and Cass to walk by. "Not me, I need to watch my figure. We're going to hit it big, after all." He quickly stepped into the building and let the door slam in John's face. "I don't want to be known as the Chubby One, like our friend out there."

John opened the door and stepped into the diner with a look of mock anger on his face. "I heard that," he said. "And fuck you, Paulie." He spied a tray with syrup out of the corner of his eye and he quickly picked up the bottle. "Paulie, you're looking a bit dry." He held up the bottle, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Hey now!" Cass exclaimed, grabbing John's hand and lowering the bottle slowly. She could see the oncoming future whereas Paul could obviously not. "Let's play nice, boys. Please? We're supposed to be _celebrating_."

"Yeah," Alley said. "As much as I want to see pretty boy get smothered with syrup-no offense, Paulie-it's a time to celebrate!" She motioned to a table that was empty. "PANCAKES!"

Cass rolled her eyes, and, taking Paul's hand in hers, dragged them both into one side of the booth. She wrapped her arms around his, and to her horror he reached over and ran a hand over her belly.

….what? Mood killed. There were no pregnant bellies in the old days.

Paul scrunched up his face in amusement at the look of terror on Cassidy's face. "Oh, Cass, people are gonna know soon enough. Might as well flaunt it."

"Flaunt it if you got it," Alley said, agreeing. Her face was buried in the menu. "I want bacon."

Cass closed her eyes, pretending that hadn't just happened. "I want bacon, too. And sausage. And - " she inhaled deeply " - hash browns. A big heap of hash browns. Pancakes with...with like, chocolate sauce all over them." She looked up at Paul, smiling and nodding. "Yeah?"

He raised his eyebrows. Never had he witnessed Cassidy eating so much. "Uh...yeah, I guess." He looked at John and laughed. "Someone's eating for two!" Which earned him a sharp jab in the ribs.

"Looks like someone else is gonna be the fucking chubby one," John muttered under his breath. Alley smacked him in the arm, hard. "Ow, fuck! What was that for?"

"No making fun of the pregnant lady!"

"I don't even care," Cass said, buttering a piece of bread and stuffing it into her mouth. "Like, honestly. I'm going to eat whatever I want and I am going to like it." She grinned up at Paul, her cheeks fat with bread.

"You're too cute," he told her.

"Good one."

Paul looked across the table at John, wondering what Cynthia would say if she walked in here and found the four of them; John sitting with his arm wrapped around Alley. Why didn't John care? It was a total mystery to him.

"Hamburg." Paul leaned back, pulling Cass closer to him. "It's gonna be crazy."

"Crazy," John repeated, nodding. He chuckled and gave Alley a little squeeze. "Fucking crazy!"

"What's really crazy," Cass said, not wanting to talk about Hamburg at all, "is that this is the last time we're ever really going together. This is...this is it." She looked at Paul, Alley and John wistfully. She shrugged, trying to shake off the heavy feeling that had just consumed her. "It's sad."

"It is," Alley agreed with a nod. Cass' speech had sobered them all. "It'll be different."

"Fucking hell," John said with a scoff. "Let's not get all teary-eyed now!"

Alley chuckled then. "No I guess we better not. How about we just enjoy this?" When the other three looked at her in silence she added, "Let's not think about tomorrow or the next day or the next ten years. We're here now. And like you said, Cass, this is gonna be the last time we'll be together here. The last fucking time!" She grabbed one of the glasses of orange juice the waitress brought to the table and held it up. "A toast-to us! Let's never forget!"

"Well said," Paul added, holding up his coffee and clinking it against Alley's orange juice. "To good memories!"

Cass picked up her thick chocolate milkshake and knocked it to her friends'. "To fucking shit up, daily!"

"To-whatever the fuck this is," John said, motioning the four of them. He chuckled. "To what fucking was and to what fucking will be!'

And then Cassidy started crying again, Paul held her close, John started to make fun of her, and Alley yelled at him. All was right in the world, if for only just a moment.

…

Change was a bittersweet thing. That's what Alley had rationalized as she walked home after Cassidy's graduation. Change was inevitable and unavoidable in life; society did well to inform people of that fact. But what they didn't prepare you for was the all the feelings that would swirl around inside you when change did happen to strike. Sometimes, when the change was for the better, the emotions were good ones—happiness, enjoyment, frivolity. Other times the changes were bad ones and with them came anger, sadness, bitterness and contempt. Then there were those rare times that change was an equal mix of both. It brought happiness but also sadness. Thus, the change was bittersweet and exactly the type of change situation that Alley found herself in.

It seemed like everything was changing all at once. Cass graduated high school, John and the boys were off to Hamburg to finally get their career started, Cass was pregnant. That seemed to be the biggest thing to happen—so far. Just a short time ago, Alley thought, everything seemed to be completely normal. There was no trouble in their lives and no change waiting to happen hovering over them. But like always, one thing happened and then another and another until, like dominoes, it all had fallen down. And that's what Alley felt like; like she was standing in the center of a bunch of fallen dominoes that she couldn't touch. It was like a pile of broken glass; once it's broken, you can't ever put the pieces back together. But that wasn't the point. She didn't want to put the pieces back together. Sometimes lives were meant to change and people were meant to move on. But it still didn't stop it from sucking.

Alley was going to miss her friends—Paul, George, even Stu and Pete. They had been friends for years now and friendship was never a hard thing to let go. And then there was John. John, John, John, John, JOHN. The more she thought about him, the more it hurt her. The thought that he was leaving—perhaps for good this time—was like a knife being pushed right through her heart. Her heart was breaking and it was bleeding, in theory anyway, and there was nothing she could do about it. She would go and see him that afternoon and talk to him in the way they always talked to each other. There would be no sadness, no tears, no show of heavy emotion. If change was coming and it was about to end something, what was the point of fighting it? She'd rather their relationship or friendship or whatever the appropriate name for it was, would end nicely.

As she neared her house, she wondered about how life was going to be now. After all, it was only going to be her and Cass. They'd be together and they'd have each other but still the question she had been asking herself all day, one that she didn't have an answer for yet, stuck in her mind.

What were they going to do now?

…

Cass stared at her hands, the soft breeze playing with the wisps of curls that hung in her face.

The park was nearly empty, except for herself and Paul and a small boy with his mother. As Paul chattered on about God only knew what, she watched the boy. He stood at the top of the winding slide, looking down it apprehensively. His mother squatted at the bottom, coaxing him and encouraging him bubbily. Her voice carried all the way to where Cassidy sat, the bright falsetto echoing around in her skull.

The little boy finally sat down on the edge of the plastic, gripping the sides of the slide until his little knuckles turned white. He looked down at his mom, who smiled widely, and let go. He screamed and giggled as he went down, sailing into her arms. She scooped him from midair, flying him high above her head and then swishing down again. He just ate it up.

They looked so happy, so carefree. A proper family. Cassidy wondered where the little boy's dad was.

"Paul," she said suddenly, cutting him off midsentence.

Paul didn't even react to the interruption, merely closing his mouth and turning his body to face her. "Mhm?"

"I want a boy," she said confidently.

He looked at her for a moment, caught between two emotions that she couldn't quite place. Finally, he reached forward, rubbing the solid skin of her tummy. It would soon protrude, showing signs of life. Fuck, was she glad that she would already be graduated by then.

Cass froze at his touch, guilty thoughts consuming her mind. She tried to push them away. "I want a little boy with round, hazel eyes." She reached up, running a hand through his already mused, thick brown locks. "And hair just like this, that falls into his eyes so I can always have an excuse to brush it back." Hot tears stung at her eyes, as she knew the chances of having her baby look like Paul were slim to none.

Paul frowned, leaning in closer to her and taking her hand in his. He ran his other hand through her bangs, around her temple, and then under her eyes to catch her tears. "I just want you to be happy," he said softly, the look on his face telling her that he meant it to the bottom of his heart.

It occurred to her then that she would never be happy like this. He thought she was crying because she was going to be a teen mom. No, that was only part of it. He would never fully understand it, not if she let him think this way. Not if she never told him the truth. Of course, she could be content like this. Right here, in his arms. But she would never be _happy_, like he wanted for her. And so she had to tell him.

"Paul," she said softly, his naming tasting bittersweet on her tongue. "I need to tell you something."

He nodded in response, absentmindedly twisting a curl around his finger. He wasn't expecting anything life-changing; she had already delivered that news a few days before.

"You're…you're not going to take this well." She felt it was only right to tell him.

He let out a humorless laugh, putting his hand on her hip and pulling her closer yet to him. He gently kissed her forehead, breaking her heart even further with his gentleness. "Try me," he said.

Cassidy's mouth went dry. Her stomach twisted. Her heart stopped.

"I can't marry you," she said.

Paul stopped his affectionate gestures, leaning back to look Cassidy full in the face. "What? Of course you can—"

"It's not your baby."

Cassidy watched his face carefully, ready for anything. She wasn't sure what she expected to happen; maybe he would break down weeping, maybe he would smack her clean across the face. Whatever the case, she wouldn't blame him. Not even for a second. Sure, the circumstances were a little skewed, but the words that were obviously supposed to follow never came out. They weighted on her tongue, forcing themselves back down her throat. What she had been able to tell her mother last night in the strictest confidence was not going to be told again, she knew. It was a onetime deal.

And then her chance to defend herself was gone.

Paul pushed her away from him, his hands not rough but not containing the soft caress they had just moments ago. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice monotone. The adoration that had shined on his perfect features was replaced with utter disbelief. His eyes were flat.

But Cassidy knew he had heard her, heard her loud and clear. "I'm so sorry," she said, her voice breaking but no tears coming. It seemed as though she had cried herself dry already.

Paul stood up slowly, his legs shaking slightly. His face had gone rigid, cold. "You led me on," he accused blatantly, staring her dead in the eye.

"S-sorry," she repeated in a breathy whisper, her eyes lowering to the ground. She could feel him staring her down, waiting for a proper response.

Cassidy could almost hear the indignant look on his face. "You were gonna let me _marry_ you.

You were going to let me throw EVERYTHING away. Every fucking thing I've dreamed of and worked towards for my _entire life_."

If it were an ordinary conversation – or an ordinary fight – Cass might have made some snarky comment about how his entire life was not even two decades long. But now was really, really not the time.

"This is so like you," Paul hissed under his breath, and looking up she saw him glare at the sky, his hands planted firmly on his hips. "This is SO fucking like you."

She crinkled up her face. "What are you talking about?"

His eyes snapped back onto her, and they were so furious – so full of fire and…and hatred – that she jumped. They were the eyes of a different man than the one she had known. "You ruin everything for me. And you don't even bat an eye."

Now it was Cassidy's turn to get pissed. She crossed her arms over her chest tightly, shaking her head fervently. "I haven't ruined shit for you!"

"My best friend hates you – that should have told me something," he muttered to himself. "But no."

"John's a douchebag!" Cassidy exclaimed, her hands rising up and then coming down to her sides with an echoing slap. In the playground, the mother led the little boy away, glancing over her shoulder at Cassidy and Paul in contempt. "And _you're not his best friend_."

Ouch. It was written all over Paul's face, and he shook his head. "You're such a bitch. You, your sister, your mom. All three of you. Your dad is so lucky he got out while he could."

No. Oh fuck no. That was pushing it too far, and he knew it. "He DIED, you insensitive piece of shit. He left me. And now you're leaving me, and George. And probably everyone else I'll ever know." Her voice grew thick, her eyes moistened. But still, she did not cry. "So just go, Paul. Go off to Hamburg with your Beatles and your John Lennon and your hopes and dreams. Please just fucking leave."

He stood there, an empty shell of the person he had been not ten minutes ago. His glittering hazel eyes shone flat brown, the laugh that tinkled out of his lips so easily came out in a false pitched lull. "Don't make me out to be the bad guy. You lied to me, Cassidy –"

"Yeah." Her chest heaved with a sob that couldn't make it out. Her whole body shook, and to hide the tremor in her voice she raised it higher. "Yeah, I lied. But you don't know the half of it."

She wanted desperately for him to put two and two together, right there. Her erratic behavior after the initial incident, the fact that she spent every waking hour of the past few months with him or Alley. Or, when she first told him about the baby, before he knew it wasn't his, the fact that they used protection. Cassidy wanted him to ask her what happened – what really happened – and she wanted him to not be able to rest until he really found out. She wanted him to take her in his arms, whisper that he loved her, and then go beat the shit out of Garrett.

But, instead, he delivered a line that punched in straight in the gut.

"I really loved you, Cassidy, but I refuse to look past the fact that you are a lying, cheating, manipulative…" He hesitated, but only briefly. Then his face hardened, his jaw clenched, his nostrils flared. "_Whore._ Even if I only know the half of it."

He threw her words back in her face, and he might as well have smacked her and spit in her face for the effect it had on her. She felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her, and she staggered back a few feet, unable to unlock her eyes from the deadened grasp his held on her.

"Have a nice life, Cass. I hope I never see you again."

And then he left her there, in the park. Struggling to gain control of her breath as her dry sobs wracked her body. She clutched at her ribs, tucked her chin into her chest, tried to make herself move from the bench that she had uneasily sat back down on. Even when the sun went down and a bitter wind bit at her skin, she remained there. Paralyzed with the realization that she would probably never see him again.

And, as a matter of fact, she didn't. Not for about fifty years, that is.

…

Alley dreaded this moment since she knew John and the Beatles were leaving for Hamburg. Before they even agreed to meet, she knew it was coming. The big goodbye where she and John talked and hugged and cried and professed their love and undying devotion for each other. Or, at least that's what she wished would happen. In reality, they would only talk and probably joke and John would leave. Whatever their true feelings were, whatever was plaguing them inside would never find its way to the surface. For Alley and John were the same in that respect. Their true feelings hardly ever broke through the thick, concrete wall that they kept around themselves. Half of the time, more often than not, they themselves couldn't separate their true feelings from the masks that they showed everyone else. So their goodbye wouldn't be a proper one. Still, it was something they both needed to survive the changes that loomed overhead.

When John called Alley that morning and asked her where she wanted to meet, she immediately suggested the tree. _Their _tree. It seemed as fitting a place as any. What better way to say goodbye then at a place that meant something to the two people who were going separate ways? Alley arrived at the tree first and sat down at the base of its trunk to wait for John. She remembered all the times they spent by the tree. The good times where they talked and laughed and joked and had fun days. And the bad—when Alley was stupid and climbed the tree only to fall, almost to her death if John hadn't rushed her to the hospital. Either way, good or bad, Alley and John shared a lot of memories. One thing was for certain—she was gonna miss it all.

John knew Alley would get to the tree first. She was like that; an early bird. Even more so than him, if that was even possible. When they saw each other at last, they both thought, for a split second, that maybe this was the time to reveal their true feelings for each other. Maybe it would help things, change them or make it all better. Both considered it for the briefest of moments and then just as quick as the thought came, it was gone. The way of masked feelings and humour was chosen instead.

"Is that the famous John Lennon I see walking towards me?" Alley called as he neared her. "Oh please, oh please, can I have your autograph Mr. Lennon?"

John chuckled as he sat down next to her. "Very funny." He turned to her with a grin. "What was your name again, luv?"

"Oh fuck off!" Alley said, swatting his arm. They shared a brief chuckle before silence took over.

Neither of them knew what to say. In such situations, people tend to point out the obvious. Alley was no exception. "So, Hamburg, huh?" she said.

"Yeah," John said, nodding. "Hamburg."

"Fun," Alley said after a while, just to break the silence that was threatening to cover them.

"Yeah," John said with a scoff. He sighed loudly. "It's gonna be different this time, I'll tell you that much. This time I think we have a fucking chance."

"The Beatles are gonna make it big aren't they?" Alley asked. She shook her head and corrected herself. "No. They _are _gonna make it big. You'll be so high up that you'll need a fucking magnifying glass to see the rest of the world."

John laughed at the image that conjured in his mind. He liked it and part of him couldn't wait for it to be like that. "It's gonna be great," he said.

Silence once again threatened to fall over them. Alley didn't want things between them to get awkward so she took a breath and forced herself to say something that she had been thinking the entire time it took her to walk to the tree.

"Hey Johnny?" Alley said, looking at him. She was going to miss looking into his dark mischievous eyes, wondering what crazy thing he would do next.

"Yes, luv?"

"Will you remember me when you're famous?" Her voice sounded almost like a child's—scared and meek. But John did not laugh.

"I will," he said with a serious nod. "I don't think I'll ever forget, luv."

Alley nodded and exhaled the breath she was holding. The rest of their time together was spent mostly in silence, both of them enjoying each other's company. She asked what she wanted to ask. And his answer made happiness burst within her. He said that he would never forget her. That was all the goodbye she needed.

…

Strawberry Field.

In theory it wasn't a special place. It was nothing more than a children's home run by the Salvation Army. It wasn't fancy, it didn't have anything special; it was just a place that held a special place in John Lennon's heart. As a child, he looked forward to the garden party that was held every summer there. The music of the Salvation Army band seemed to call his name when they played and he knew he just had to be there. And when he wasn't attending the annual garden party, he and his friends used to play and have fun there.

It meant a lot to him.

And like anyone about to leave home to embark on a journey, he felt that he needed to say a proper goodbye to the places that he spent most of his life. Now he sat, alone, taking in the sights and sounds of the familiar place. He wanted this to be one of the memories he carried with him when he was gone and away, doing whatever it is he was going to be doing. With a beer in his hand, he sat in the quiet stillness as the sun set around him.

Paul stomped through town, his sights set on Strawberry Field but his heart back in the park where he had just left Cassidy. He felt as though she had torn it from his body, stomped on it severely, and then left it there to palpitate until it bled out.

He was shocked, betrayed. Moreover, he was just severely pissed off, and could use a good listening ear and a cold beer. That, of course, was why he was headed toward the place John had spent most of his childhood, as they had designated as the meet-up spot tonight.

Tonight, he thought. Tonight, possibly his last night in Liverpool.

He couldn't be happier.

John finished his second-or was it third?-beer and threw it to the side where it tumbled a few feet before stopping. He looked up when he heard the rattle of the old gates and someone landing on the soft grass. He grabbed another beer from the pack he had, opened it and leaned back on his elbow as he took a sip. He prepared to say something witty and sarcastic but the look on Paul's face made his words die before they passed his lips.

"I reckon she told you then," he said instead, watching Paul as he plopped down next to him on the grass.

"Told me what?" he asked harshly, hating the sound of his own voice. "Told me that she was pregnant? Or told me that she would marry me? Or - or, the one that really gets me - told me that she would marry while she knew _that the baby wasn't mine?_"

John froze for a few seconds, his beer a few inches from his mouth. He put it down slowly and took a minute to process what Paul said before answering. "Hold on a fucking second. The baby isn't yours? She didn't-Cass didn't-we didn't fucking know that."

Paul yanked a beer from the open case, bringing it to his lips with such force that it clanked painfully against his teeth. He chugged the entire thing, then chucked it a few yards beyond where they were sitting. "I 'spect it's because she didn't want everyone knowing she's a whore."

"Fuck," John said. He ran a hand through his hair. He followed Paul by chugging the rest of his beer and throwing it across the field. "What a bitch!"

"Tell me about it," Paul mumbled, pulling out another beer and taking a sip. He swallowed thoughtfully, shaking his head. "I just didn't think she was that type of girl."

"Fuckin' women!" John grabbed another beer, the last one in the pack, and twisted it open. After drinking half of it, he wiped his mouth and said, "Fuck 'em! Fuck this! Fuck Liverpool! We're getting out of here, anyway." He scoffed, finished the beer, threw it against the wall and chuckled as it shattered. "Thank the Lord!"

Paul leaned back in the grass, knowing he should scold John for littering this place that he loved so much. And normally, he would make some snide comment about the continued path of tipsiness he knew he was headed on just then. But after what happened with Cassidy in the park that afternoon, he just didn't give a flying fuck. For the first time in a long time, he just wanted to get drunk.

In the dying light of the setting sun, he considered the past few years of his life, the ones that he had devoted to basically one girl. And then, a new thought occurred to him.

There were probably thousands of Cassidy's on this Earth. And if not girls named Cassidy, then ones with curly auburn hair and deep blue eyes. She wasn't really all that special, was she?

He felt strange, free, oddly exuberant. He glanced at John out of the corner of his eye, tucking his arms behind his head. "When we get to Hamburg, let's majorly fuck shit up."

John turned to Paul, a grin spreading across his face. "Paulie, I've been waiting for you to get on board for too fucking long now." He chuckled, giving Paul a playful punch on the arm. "We're gonna do more than fuck shit up, mate. We're gonna rip Hamburg wide open!"

Paul smiled, staring up at the darkening night. "I don't think I'll miss it here much. I mean, I suppose I'll miss Mike. And maybe Alley. But I really just need to get the fuck away from Cassidy and all her..." He searched for the right phrase, but his mind failed him. He didn't think he could really trash talk her yet, because he would probably never exactly hate her. But, then again, what he was feeling felt a good deal like something resembling that particular feeling.

"I need to get away from everything about her. She almost ruined my life," he said softly.

John sighed, looking serious for the moment. "I understand, mate. Sometimes, you gotta leave a bunch of shit behind just to move forward." He paused for a few seconds, staring into the distance. "I reckon that's what we're doing."

Paul sighed, shook his head. "I can't believe the infamous John Lennon and his sidekick Paulie are just gonna leave their hometown without giving the bastards that live here something real to talk about." He grinned over at John, pushing his shoulder lightly. "When was the last time we did something impulsive?"

John caught his drift. He grinned mischievously. "Not in a long time. Shall we? Leave Liverpool with a bang, eh?"

"That's what I was thinking." Paul sat up, draining the remainder of his beer and tapping it on his chin in thought. "But what is there to do?

John bit his lip as he thought. Then it dawned on him. "Well I do have some unfinished business…."

"Let's do it," Paul said instantly, rising to his feet. He laughed, which surprised him. He had sworn to himself only moments ago he would never laugh again. Guess he didn't need Cassidy, did he? "So...what is it?"

"You know Alley's step-brother?" John asked, rising to stand next to his friend. He stretched and kicked the empty beer case across the field. "That fucking Irish bastard?"

"Hey now," Paul said warningly, as he was of proud Irish descent. "But anyways, yeah. I know about it. He always seemed sorta...grimy. Like, one you wouldn't want to touch for fear of catching some lice." He shuddered. "Why, what about him?"

"Sorry," John said. He shook his head, getting back on track. "Anyway. The fucking wanker jumped me a few years ago. Him and his friends. I've always wanted to get him back for that." He remembered then how Garrett saved him and Alley when Royce was attacking them. But in John's mind, it still didn't make him even. He raised his eye-brows suggestively at Paul. "Let's get him back."

Paul hesitated. He didn't really have anything against the guy. He didn't want to create enemies for himself when he didn't need to.

"Aww, what's the matter, Macca?" John asked, giving his friend a little shove. "Afraid of screwing up your pretty face? Don't worry, the fans won't care about that stuff."

Paul rolled his eyes, shaking off that comment. "Fine. Just as long as we leave directly after. I'm so done with this place." He hooked his thumbs in his coat pockets, rocked back and forth on his heels, twitched his mouth. "And if he throws any punches at my face, I won't be all that happy."

"It'll be our last action in Liverpool, Paulie, I promise you that," John said, clapping his friend on the back. Just before they climbed the gates to get out of Strawberry Field, John said, "And don't worry about your face. I'll protect you!"

Paul shoved him, making him stumble forward a few inches, and he chuckled in spite of himself.

Before John could retaliate, he took off at a run in the direction of Alley's house, hurdling himself over the fence and not looking back for fear of John's wrath.

"I'll fucking get you too!" John called, breaking into a sprint and chasing Paul.

Paul laughed wildly. To be honest, he didn't have the highest tolerance for alcohol, and was already feeling a bit buzzed. The running intoxicated him further, and he founded himself yelling at the top of his lungs and rounding the corner of Alley's block at a fast pace. He was brought up short by the sight of the big, white house that he had just left a few hours previously.

Swallowing roughly, he stood in the middle of the street, staring at it. He wondered if Cass was in there right now, getting ready for bed. Probably crying. Pregnant, alone, without consolation.

…

John and Paul waited outside Alley's house for twenty minutes before anything happened. John knew that Garrett usually finished work around this time and that he came home for a while before going out to spend the night in a pub. He and the nervous Paul had to wait. Nothing was said between them. Paul would probably try and talk John out of it at the last minute and John would be forced to call him a sissy and smack him upside the head. So to avoid confrontation between themselves, they kept silent.

Finally, just as the sun had disappeared from the sky and darkness took over, Garrett came home.

"Oh shit," Paul whispered, shaking a little bit. "I didn't know he was that big!" He nudged John, giving him a meaningful look. "Maybe we should just go? Maybe - "

"Don't finish the sentence, Paulie," John said, holding up his finger in warning. "I'll fucking kill you."

Paul shifted anxiously. "So when do we do it?"

"Oh, well, right after we invite him to tea!" John said sarcastically. He smacked Paul upside the head.

"Now, you wanker! Let's go!" He motioned for Paul to go around the bushes they were hiding behind so he could jump on Garrett from the back. John would step in front of Garrett.

Paul nodded at John's plan, but as Garrett approached - swaggering and swaying - a surge of hate rose up in him. He couldn't understand it nor fathom where it came from, but all of a sudden he was yelling at the top of his lungs and launching himself at Garrett. He flung his fist in the air and wildly swung at him, making contact with his cheekbone.

John froze for half a second, staring at Paul like he was mental patient. He was surprised to see the sudden change in him. Before Garrett could hit Paul back, John ran full speed, yelled like an animal and jumped on Garrett. The force knocked him to the ground and he began punching his face with both fists.

"Take that you bloody fucking wanker!" he yelled. "That'll teach you not to fucking mess with John Lennon!"

Paul pointed down at Garrett, who sat shocked and very put-off and still drunk. "Yeah!" he screamed, feeling extremely pleased with himself.

Garrett made an exasperated, drunken sound. "What de fuck, man?" He tried to get up, but ended up swinging and hitting Paul in the face.

Paul clutched at his lower lip, his big eyes full of fear. He was not the boy who beat people up. "What? No! No, no! What?"

"Paul!" John said. He stood up and gave his friend a shove. "Calm the fuck down!" He turned back to Garrett and gave him one last kick to the ribs. "Stay down, you tosser!"

Paul frowned, suddenly very upset by the way things were turning out for him that day.

Garrett leaned back, cringing, and glowered at Paul through bloodshot, bruised eyes. "Hey, I know you! You're that McCartney kid!" He chuckled then, something that must have caused him great pain in his ribs. "You're girlfriend's real cute." He even gave Paul a quick wink, his greasy, ginger hair falling into his eyes.

And then Paul knew. He felt so sick to his stomach he could have turned around and retched right there, but instead, he gathered his wits about him and stared Garrett right in the eye. "She's not my girlfriend." And, in one last act of revenge - upon Garrett, Cassidy, and just the entire God forsaken town - spat a mouthful of saliva on Garrett's sneering face.

John looked from Garrett to Paul with a completely shocked expression. It was silent for a few moments. But then anger suddenly crossed Garrett's face and John could see that he was two seconds away from lunging at his best friend and possibly killing him. Before Garrett could get himself off the ground, John pitched forward and punched him, hard, across the face. Garrett slumped to the ground, unconscious. John grabbed Paul's arm and pulled him as they ran down the street and into the night.

Hamburg didn't know what was about to hit it.

…

Cassidy sat on the front steps of her house, her knees tucked up to her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs. She felt like she was holding herself together, and the moment she let go she would fall to pieces.

Everything was wrong. Paul was leaving her - probably gone by now, actually - and he basically hated her, her mother was acting all weird and sentimental, she could not even enter her best friend's house without feeling as though she were going to throw up, and she had not even gotten to say goodbye to George, one of the best friends she had ever had. And how she probably wasn't ever going to see him again.

Just a shit-ass day in general.

Alley sat next to Cassidy on the porch, her legs straight before her and a cigarette in her hand. Cassidy looked so sad and alone and like she was retreating into herself more and more with each passing second. It hurt Alley to see her best friend like that and it hurt her even more that she couldn't do anything to help. The only person that could help her-fix her-was long gone by now; in another country, probably starting another life.

And it wasn't just him either.

John. John was long gone too. And George, Stu, Pete, the whole group. All the people she knew, all the people she had been with for so long were gone. Now it was only the two of them. Cassidy and Alley-the two that were left behind. In the beginning it was just them and so it was again at the end. So it probably always would be.

Alley took a long drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly. "So," she said when the smoke had cleared, "this is how it ends?"

Cassidy let her head drop to her knees, her hands encircling her belly. "I feel," she said quietly, "like such a fuck-up."

Alley chuckled, shaking her head. "Aren't we all, Cass?" She took one last drag on her cigarette and flicked it onto the grass. She watched as the tip crackled and burned and finally went out. "We never thought it'd end like this when we first met them. Who fucking knew?"

Cass picked her head up, her blank eyes staring down the deserted street. Everything was bathed in the milky light of dawn, and she could just make out the bloody patch of grass in Alley's front lawn. "At least they left with a bang," she whispered.

"Yeah," Alley said with a laugh. She shook her head. John's idea, no doubt. "I reckon they did." She was quiet for a few seconds. She contemplated asking her next question. It was a question that you wanted a specific answer to. The other answer is something you feared because it wasn't the answer you wanted to hear. But hearing what you didn't want beat not knowing the answer at all. "Do you think we'll ever see them again?" she finally asked, her voice not at it's usual loud volume.

Her friend sighed, shaking her head and turning to look her in the eye. Cassidy and Alley had both seen so much, lived through so much. Collectively, they were a lot of things - stubborn, strange, resilient, spontaneous, stupid, and a great deal lost - but they were not naive.

"No," Cass said simply, her eyes taking in the empty expression Alley wore. "I don't think so."

"That's what I was afraid of hearing," Alley said. She scoffed. "But I knew I was going to."

Cassidy laughed, shrugging. "God, what did you expect? They were talented, good-looking, sweet - except for John, of course - and they had an actual future ahead of them. They weren't meant to stay with..." She stopped short, her smile fading and her eyes casting downward. "With us."

"No, Cass, don't," Alley said. She put her hand over her friend's. "Don't look sad. Don't get depressed. It's us, mate. You and me. We're all we need."

Cassidy smiled at Alley. Simply put, she felt like going inside and digging the thing that currently resided in her out and chucking it down a well. But right then, she almost forgot that she was going to have a baby - a _ginger_ baby. No, instead she wrapped her arms around her best friend and cried silently into her shoulder. She felt worn and used and dirty, but at that moment all she really wanted was a hug.

"We were so fucking dumb," she muttered into Alley's shirt. "But I'm so happy you're here right now."

"I'll always be," Alley said, putting an arm around her friend and hugging her tightly. "I'm not going anywhere. It'll be okay, Cass."

Cass looked up into Alley's big brown eyes, truly feeling like there was a chance that everything would work out in the end. "So, what do we do now?"

Alley took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds and then slowly exhaled. She gave Cass a little squeeze. "Look to the future, Cass. Look to the future."

...

**Addie An: You know, not to be _insensitive _or anything but- screw the readers, I'm fucking depressed! No no, reader, I love you. But still...this is sad. :(**

**Catie AN: Ha, the entire time we were writing this, we were all "YEAH! LET'S GO OUT WITH A BANG! 20000 WORDS! WHOOHOO!" But, no guys, we wouldn't do that to you all, as insensitive as Addie is. But yeah, sad. Right. Bittersweet, as Alley would say.**

**Addie AN: I'm gonna miss Alley. And John.**

**Catie AN: Me and Addie - sorry, Addie and I - were discussing how much she loves writing for Alley and John, and how much I think Cassidy is a whiny bitch. Ha, my own character, I know. But it's true. Throughout this entire book (yes, I consider this a book, seeing as it is nearly as long as fucking Gone with the Wind) I have always liked little Georgie the best. His character change is just...fuck. Go George. :^)**

**Addie AN: I love George. He is fucking amazing in this story. And there's that one chapter where I was totally attracted to him. Well I mean, I am normally, but still. Whatever. Anyway... I was just thinking about it. This story is more than just a fan fiction to us. It is what got Catie and I's (ugh fucking grammar) friendship started. This was written over a and a half and we grew and changed with this story as the characters did. And not only is it a story and a way to channel our Beatles obsession (LOL) but also it's a testament of sorts. It shows us that we are capable of writing this much, you know? We can look back and say, whoa, I was a part of writing nearly 200 000 words. And that's crazy. And great! And I'm glad to have been a part of it.**

**And whoa wasn't that fucking deep. I got emotional. Catie, I'm scared. **

**Catie AN: I KNEW 2012 WAS THE END OF THE WORLD!**

**Anyways. I have to say that my favorite scene in this chapter was Alley and John's goodbye. It wasn't warm, but it melted my heart. Guys, if you read these stupid ANs, let us know by leaving a quick blurb in the reviews about what your favorite scene from the chapter was. Because truly, it was an event-filled scene chapter. Many things happened, haha. **

**Addie: LOL shut up! **

**Thank you Catie. That means a lot. Really, it does. :) But yeah guys, definitely tell us what you thought. This chapter was pretty heavy for an ending but all endings are. It's definitely worthy of In Spite Of All The Danger. **

**I remember when we first started this story. We were trying to figure out a title. And as you know, titles are a bitch to think up. So, I became obsessed with the song In Spite Of All The Danger at that time, thank you Nowhere Boy, and I sent the link to Catie. She listens to it and goes "That's the title of our story." And so, this story was born and now here it ends. **

**This is depressing shit right here.**

**Catie AN: In Spite of All the Danger...the Degrassi of fanfictions. :( But yeah. God. We spent weeks trying to figure out a title, and even though we never really say the title in the story or sometimes it doesn't seem to apply, it always does. Because this story is about love and friendship, and in spite of everything - and all the danger :^) - it stays true throughout Cassidy and Alley's lives.**

**And now we will leave you, because you all probably don't care and there is a chapter after this. Ha. :^) Thanks so much for reading, guys. We honestly love you all.**

**Addie AN: We do love you, really. You are all the reason this story kept going. So thanks a lot! We are forever grateful! So, without any further ado, why don't you all go ahead and review. 8^)**


	20. Chapter 20

**Addie AN: I can't believe it's time to say this. It's over. We're writing these ANs first, kinda going into the epilogue blind. We hope it's good. Here it is, so enjoy the last chapter of In Spite Of All The Danger. **

**Catie AN: I've only actually ended two stories before this one, and honestly...there's no worse feeling. Or better, if you look at it that way (which I don't). We haven't written this chapter yet, but the fact that we both know that in just a short hour this is all probably going to be over with kinda...breaks my heart. I won't talk on and on and on at you right now, because that's what I usually do. So. Um. Happy reading? :'^(**

**PULL IT TOGETHER GEORGE!**

**Catie's Quick AN Before This Story Goes Up: If you guys REALLY miss us…or want to check out anything else we've done, we're both writing Beatles stories right now. Sequels, actually, to original ones. Addie's is called The Continuing Story of Quinn Collins and – to use a Ringoism – it is simply fab. Mine is In My Life. If you want to check out an AMAZING story written by someone who you guys might not really know, search This Boy and find my good friend Logan, and read his story I'll Be Back. Also, message him. He's hot. :^) **

…

Richard stared at the women, taken aback by the sheer length of the story. That, added to the drama and love and hate and just...everything, made it a story that was worth the amount of money they had paid the women to come in and speak.

"Are we done then?" Cassidy asked, turning around to look over her shoulder at the large clock that hung on the wall. She turned back to look at the interviewer, a look of sheer boredom on her face. "Well?"

Before Richard could speak, Alley turned to her friend. "Whoa, whoa, hold on, Cass," she said, her eyes wide in disbelief. How could Cass even think that they were remotely done? There was still much more to cover. "You never told me it was Garrett. You just said it was some one night stand. Cass...you never told me. I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't a one night stand, either," Cassidy said sharply, well aware that she had never told anybody but her mother - who was long gone - the truth about what happened that night. And now, everyone knew. "And I couldn't tell you, could I? You thought he was getting better. And...it was just a bad situation all around."

"God," Alley said angrily. A rush of feelings hit her all at once. If only she knew back then, maybe she could have helped Cass. Maybe she could have even saved her relationship with Paul. But it was all in the past now and she couldn't do anything. She shook her head and sighed. "If Garrett wasn't already dead, I'd kill him!'

Richard almost laughed at the thought of an old woman attacking someone equally as old as her. But his amusement was taken over by his curiosity. "You said Garrett died, Mrs. Chambers?"

Alley nodded. "Yeah. 1971. Stupid bastard was drunk and he-fell into the Mersey river."

Cass snorted. "Goodbye and good riddance." She waved her hand carelessly.

Richard looked over at Cass, slightly appalled. "But...but Mrs. Riddle...wasn't Garrett the father of your child? I know that it was a horrible situation, but...your baby..."

She looked the man right in the eye, a distant glint appearing there as it did whenever she thought of the baby that she almost had. "I miscarried. Never had him." She still referred to the baby as 'him', even though she never really found out whether it was or not. She still pictured that little boy with big, sleepy hazel eyes and soft, thick brown hair.

"I'm sorry, Cass," Alley said, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I know how much it hurts you to think of the baby." She turned to Richard then, eager to move on to the next topic. "So what else do you want to know?"

Richard shrugged, at a loss for words. "You gave me so much more than I could have asked for." He looked from Cassidy to Alley, wondering why in their story Cass had seemed so much gentler and Alley so much wilder. It just proved how much time changed people. "Thank you."

"I think the pleasure is truly ours," Alley said with a small smile. "It feels good to get the story out after all these years. The past, no matter how far gone, is something you never stop thinking about."

"Well, I mean," Cassidy said, feeling as though she should add something, "it happened, after all."

"I actually have a few more questions if you ladies don't mind," Richard said, remembering some things he had wanted to talk about from before. "Do you mind?"

Alley shook her head. "I'm here. I might as well get it all out now." She turned to her best friend. "Cass?"

Cassidy merely shrugged, rather indifferent.

"Well, first off," Richard began, shifting nervously in his chair, "I've always wondered if people who knew the Beatles personally were Beatles fans themselves. What would you ladies say to that?"

Alley chuckled lightly. "I suppose I was a Beatles fan. I followed their entire career. Even when they broke up, I always made sure I knew what each of them was doing."

"To put it mildly, I was a Beatles fan," Cassidy said, shaking her head and looking at Alley out of the corner of her eye. "We have a few theories on some of their songs. _And I Love Her_?" She gave Richard a skeptical look. "C'mon."

Alley chuckled out right at that. "I know what you mean, Cass. There's a few of their songs that make me think. John's, especially." There was a twinkle in her eye as she thought. She shook her head, determined not to cry.

Richard was loving this, as much as any reporter would. "This is great stuff. I'm sorry, I realize it was your lives. But it's great." After a few seconds of silence he continued. "So you met Ringo, then? You knew all the Beatles?"

"Yes," Alley said, smiling once more. "I saw John a few times after the Beatles became famous. He visited me in 1965—they all came back then. It was when I met Ringo for the first time. What a nice lad! They even gave me tickets to their show which was- great! They played amazingly and were in my opinion, the best band in the world." She laughed at that. Of course she was biased, she knew the band! "And John-" she continued, "he came to see me twice more; in 1968 and in 1975. I was always happy to see him. We would keep in touch though—he'd call every once and a while. But every year on my birthday and Christmas he would send me a card. Never fail; not once. The last one..." She couldn't stop the catch in her voice. She cleared her throat and steadied her tone before continuing. "The last one I received for my birthday in 1980."

Cass placed a comforting hand on her friend's. "Shh, sweetie, it's okay." She sat there, looking into the distance for a few seconds, before looking back at Richard. "I met Ringo when John invited me to their concert along with Alley. He came to me in the middle of the night, rang my doorbell, woke me up. It was ridiculous, and I hated him for weeks." She smiled and looked down at her other hand. "I met Ringo, hugged the hell out of George, and even got a decent hug out of John. I didn't see Paul once. I haven't seen him since the day he left me in the park."

Richard took a breath and exhaled it before asking the next question. He knew it was going to be hard. It was hard for all the fans around the world but it would be hardest for the people who knew these men directly. "And speaking of John and George," he said slowly, "when they-died. How was that for you?"

Alley drew in her breath sharply. She knew the question would come sooner or later. It was something she struggled over personally for years. It was something she didn't like to think about but something she found herself thinking about a lot of the time. _You're not gonna cry, _she said to herself. _Breathe. It'll be okay. _So she sucked in a breath and exhaled it slowly. She braced herself and began to speak.

"George," she said. The name seemed to have a load of meaning in itself. "It's weird to know that he's gone. Oh George! He was sweet and beautiful. He was the kind of person that everyone in this life should know. I know I miss him everyday."

Cass cocked her head to the side. "The thing about George was...that even after I got close to Paul, and even though me and Alley were friends long before and long after he was around...he knew more about me than almost anyone. He was the type of person that would listen, really listen." She felt a small pang in her heart, a pang that was still resonating but getting gentler and gentler as the years went on. "I loved him in the truest sense of the word."

Richard nodded silently. "And John?"

There it was. John. Oh John. Alley had to take a few breaths before speaking this time. It would definitely be the hardest thing she would ever have to do. She was sure of it. But she owed it to John to be strong. If he were there he'd say something like, _"Don't be such a fucking girl, Alley." _She could almost hear him say it and that alone gave her the strength to talk.

"I still don't believe it. I can't believe a person could kill him," Alley said, her voice starting out meek but growing stronger as she kept going. "When he died, I'm certain a part of me did too. I can't even begin to explain how I felt when I heard the news. I went numb inside. To tell you the truth, I ran to our tree and I screamed. I screamed his name over and over again. I couldn't believe it." She stopped to take a breath and to wipe a tear that had escaped._"Don't be such a fucking girl, Alley." _She chuckled inwardly upon hearing John's voice in her head once more. "I will always keep him in my heart," she said. "No matter what happened in my life, I've never stopped loving him. And I hope he knows. I take solace in the fact that he and George are together. I imagine they're causing a ruckus up there with their guitars."

Richard turned to Cassidy, thinking she would probably have some sardonic comment about John's death that was bittersweet and not overly harsh. She was a classy lady, after all. But, to say the least, Cass surprised him.

Cassidy arranged her hands carefully in her lap, staring down at them blankly. She took a deep breath, wondering where exactly to start. "John Lennon was..." She shook her head, trying to organize her thoughts. "Terrible. He was terrible." She laughed, looking up at a mortified Richard. "He was mean. Ill-tempered, cruel, insensitive. He would do or say anything - hurt people, even - for a laugh. The number of times he called me Freckles outnumbers the amount of times he said hello to me." She brought her hand up to her jaw, resting her chin there and staring at her clenched fingers.

"I think that - well, I know that - he was always hiding something. Everything, really. And that's what made him the way he was. I understand him, I can even relate to him now." She scrunched up her face, staring shrewdly at her fist and trying not to cry. She would _not _cry. "When...w-when the news got to me. That he died? I cried for days." She stopped abruptly, midthought, still staring at her hand and will herself to breathe, and breathe evenly.

"He...he..." Tears escaped her heavy lids, and she squeezed her eyes together tightly. "He called me Freckles."

She looked up at Richard, too overcome with emotion to try and fathom why those words came out. He looked just as mystified as her. "And I never told him goodbye, because I just wanted to keep up the charade." Cassidy looked at Alley, knowing that she would be shocked at such a huge emotional reaction from her, of all people. "To keep up the charade that I hated him."

Cass stood up then, not wanting to spend a second more in that room, reflecting on things she did not want to recall. "Excuse me, Richard, it's been lovely." And then she fled from the room as quickly as her worn legs would take her, pushing tears from her wrinkled cheeks as she went.

Cassidy continued all the way out the door, too overcome to even see where she was going. She pushed past men holding background props and lighting equipment and clipboards. She heard a small peep of a sob escape her lips, and she rounded the corner of the block as quickly as she could.

She barely had time to take in the limo, the small army of men in black suits, and the people standing frozen on the other side of the street, pointing before she ran smack into him.

Cassidy looked up, black mascara tracks staining her face and her eyes shining turquoise in the dying afternoon light. It was funny, but the only thought that resonated in her mind then was: say something, because you are currently looking like a MORON.

"Hi," she finally squeaked.

"Hi," said Paul.

…

Alley watched Cass leave the room and for a moment she thought about following her. But she knew her friend would be okay for a few minutes. She, on the other hand, had a few more things to say before she was done. She turned to Richard who looked like he had been put through the emotional ringer. She felt sorry for him.

"You know," Alley said as an after-though, "John always knew he was going to die young. I always felt the same about myself. We even had a bet going on. I guess he won it, didn't he?"

Richard nodded. "Not a bet anyone would want to win, I think."

"You're right at that," Alley said with a wistful chuckle. "But he did anyway, didn't he?"

"Just one more question," Richard said. "And then I promise, it's done."

"Go ahead."

"Will you forget any of this?"

"I'll never forget any of this," Alley replied, her voice stronger than ever before. "It may be just another story of the Beatles but it was my life and my memories. I promise John everyday that I won't forget him and I'll keep that promise. I have faith that I'll see him again. One day. Maybe soon, maybe later. But I will see him again." She stopped for a moment and felt that mischievous grin spread onto her face once more. "Besides- the bastard owes me five quid."

…

Cassidy stood in the doorway of the studio, her sunhat pressed over her eyes and a childish smile pursed on her lips. She couldn't believe she had seen him. After fifty years, she had seen him, and all she could say was "hi" before he was rushed away by his people. But Cassidy was sure - no, she was absolutely positive - that wouldn't be the last time she would see Paulie. He was nothing if not persistent.

Finally, Alley emerged from the studio, looking very satisfied.

"There you are," she said harshly. "Finally. You would think you were ten years older than me, not two."

"The man wanted to know everything, Cass," Alley said, giving her friend a look. "And so I told him. Everything."

Cassidy shook her head indignantly, hooking her arm through her friend's. "Well, I cannot believe you made me do that. It was absolutely_ humiliating_!" She shook her head, knowing this was the time to drop the bomb. "I cannot believe you let me cry in front of Paul!"

Alley was about to say something when Cass' sentence fully processed in her brain. She had tried to not swear a long time ago, about the time she had kids, but this was the perfectly acceptable occasion. "What? You fucking saw Paul McCartney?"

"Oh, yes," she said casually. "He didn't say much, but I could tell he wanted me." She giggled like a school girl, pressing her fingers to her mouth. "C'mon, I feel like doing something for old times sake." She grinned and squeezed Alley's arm in the crook of hers.

"I like that idea," Alley said with a nod and a grin. "Hey-you think I could still climb that tree?"

Cassidy shook her head and laughed, throwing her head back gayly. "You couldn't do that when we were young!"

Alley scowled but nodded her head. "I guess you're right. Well, there's gotta be something we can do for old times sake." She thought for a moment and then when it hit her, she began to grin like a mad woman. "PANCAKES!"

Cassidy just shook her head lightly, smiled, and changed their feet to the direction of their favorite diner, always just over the way.

And the two ladies walked off into the distance together, arm in arm, enjoying each others companies. Just like they always did.

…

_"In spite of all the danger, in spite of all that may be, I'll do anything for you, anything you want me to, if you'll be true to me._"

**THE END**

…

**Catie AN: I know that for you, the readers, the end of this is coming a few days later than it is for us (we actually managed to write this...right away...whaaaaa?), but...God, are we sad. Like, really, really sad. It's kind of ridiculous. **

**Addie AN: No joke, I'm pretty sure I look depressed right now. It's actually really really sad. It's like something you worked on so hard and for so long is gone. It's pretty crazy. Especially when you are attached to a story like we are to this one. It's like our baby.**

**Catie AN: And even though there will be no sequel - because honestly? How could there be? - I'd like to think that we'll always have In Spite. To cheer us up during some of our...er, lower times (in the quality of writing, I mean), and to encourage us when we see exactly how much our writing has matured since Chapter One.**

**Addie AN: Definitely. I was looking at Chapter One. And then you look at Chapter 20 now and it's like...whoa. We definitely matured. And I'm happy to have been a part of this story. And, while ending it is really sad, there is one bright spot. Finishing a story on here is such a sense of accomplishment. Especially when you have so many that never ended. That you got tired of. I feel so good that we did it. And nearly 190 000 words ain't too fucking shabby now is it?**

**Catie AN: In my last words to all of you, I want to say that I love you all. And even though I've said that before, I mean it now more than ever. You all are our true inspiration, and your encouragement for us to put out chapters and actually move things along helps indefinitely. So, thank you. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and really any other one we've written, because at the end of the day, it truly comes down to one important thing: **

**I had three of the main characters, and Addie only had two.**

**Once again, thank you. I love you. AND I WILL MISS YOU! 3**

**Addie AN: Definitely. You guys were the inspiration of this story. Without your reviews, we would never had had the motivation to keep writing and to go on to the end. But you wanted more every chapter and we brought it to you. In short, this story would have gone no where without you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you all for reading and reviewing. You're all special to us and we most definitely will never forget you. So, like Catie said, thank you.**

**Oh, right. I may have only had two characters but let's face it, people, John Lennon trumps all. ;)**

**Thank you so much! Peace, Love and Rock N' Roll! 8^D**

**Catie AN: I know that I said those were my last words, but wouldn't it be so much more fitting if they were this:**

**John Lennon can suck Paul's dick…and he probably did.**

**(Joke.)**


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